Invisible
by Twisted Skys
Summary: He's been invisible for so long, it's hard to be seen sometimes. One-shots and mini archs of Jack's life.
1. Upon a Frozen Lake

The first time he saw her was about month after he had risen from the ice. He figured he had died somehow. He was a ghost. That was why no one could see him. Why he was always so cold, but never uncomfortable. It explained why ice reached from his fingers without him ever having to really think about it. He was a ghost, so he would haunt.

She came to his lake sometime in the midmorning. She was small, just a little girl, no older than eight. She had brown hair that flutter just past her shoulders, wearing some kind of animal hide.

Jack was perched on his staff in the center of the lake, just over the spot he had come up. He always waited there as the sun rose over the trees, resting after spreading ice and cold in the town at night.

But this girl came right up to the lake, stopping at the edge as if afraid that the ice would swallow her if she so much as touched it. She sat down at the edge, little hands digging into the frozen ground, pulling snow and dirt.

"Hey Jack."

He flinched and moved, uncurling his legs and landing on the ice in one motion. "What did you say?" He asked, disbelief warring with such a painful hope that his heart hammered against his chest.

She did not repeat herself, even as fresh tears streaked down her face. He moved closer to her, afraid at first, but gaining confidence. "Hey, don't cry," he called.

"Papa and Mama miss you lots." She said finally. "I miss you lots too. I wish we could play again. Even if only for a moment." She sobbed for a long time, then.

Jack inched closer, finally crouching down in front of her. "Don't cry," he said again.

Her head shot up, looking right at him. Jack stumbled back, landing on his behind and slipping across the ice.

"What if it happens again?"

"What?"

"What if I step onto this lake and it cracks and tries to eat me like it did you?" She was still crying, but her eyes were angry. The face a child wronged by fate. Jack wanted to hold her and stop her crying, but he was afraid that if he touched her, that broken illusion that she could see him would simply shatter.

"Hey kid, it's okay. I won't let the lake eat you." He smiled, but she did not hear him. The smile fluttered and faded on his own face.

She stood defiantly, marching onto the ice, right through him. He gasped, pain welling in his chest. He was tired of crying, so he screwed his eyes shut and refused to let the tears escape. After a moment he turned to look at her.

She had stopped where his staff was still wedged into the ice. He knew she could not see that either. She went to her knees, palms flat on the ice. Fat tears rolled from her eyes again and her sobs echoed in the silence.

He half crawled, half slid on the ice toward her. "Don't cry," he said a third time. It was more for his benefit then hers really. "I'll protect you." He sat behind her, even as she pounded on the ice.

"Jack!" she cried. "Jack Jack Jack!" Over and over again until they became sobs too. "Please come back. Nothing is fun without you. Nothing is happy."

He was afraid to touch her but wanted nothing but to hold her. "I'm right here. I'll never leave. I promise."

She fell asleep on the ice, her arm cushioning her head. He was careful to grow his ice around her without touching her. There were wolves in these forests, and he did not want such an innocent child killed. He waited beside her until she awoke.

She crawled out of her circle, a smile on her face growing the more she looked at it.

"See," he said after she escaped from it stood back to admire it. "There's no reason to cry. I'm right here. And I'll never go anywhere."

"Thanks Jack."

He knew she still could not see him, but her words warmed something he thought was frozen forever. He followed her all the way back to town, to make sure that she made it safely.

She visited him everyday, the same time. He watched her grow old as he stayed young. Even though the thought pained him, he still looked forward to her visits.

_Afterword: Fucking Jack Frost and his amazing beauty. This is my contribution. You may expect a few more._


	2. Yetis in the Empty Rooms

"Fugging Yetis…" There was so many of them. They walked around like fuzzy, waddling toys. It was hilarious. "Where's the elves?" Jack had gotten into the habit of talking to himself. No one else seemed to see him, so it wasn't like people could really judge. Besides, it eased the silence.

He gripped his staff tightly in his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The yetis were working on clearing some (of his) snow out of the main runway for what Jack could only guess was North's sleigh. He was not making it easy for them. Every time they had it cleared, Jack would dump more from the slanted roof above them, laughing a little in his glee as they made little grunts and growls in frustration.

Watching them was quickly becoming sad. The way they jostled and played with each other, even as they worked. Jack grew bored.

He let the wind pick him off the roof and he swung gracefully toward a window. It frosted up as soon as he touched it, hands gripping the edge of the roof and the other still holding his staff. He touched the tip of the hook to the seam and watched as ice raced across the wood and between the crack. The lock clicked open and Jack swung through.

The air was warm as it hit him and he shivered in surprise. It was a long time since he had stepped inside someone's home. He grinned. He was not _just _in someone's home, he was in North's workshop. His mind wondered briefly to the wonders he was going to be seeing. As soon as he got downstairs.

The room he had come in must have been a guest room or something. It was barren, except for a bed against the slanted walls. He kept the window open, in case he needed a quick escape or something, and padded silently across the room, his staff out in front of him.

There was a hall and some stairs at the end of it, and not a soul in sight. Jack grinned. It would not have made any difference. He doubted even old North could see him.

He was as light as a snowflake, letting the little gusts of wind in the halls move him faster than his feet could. It smelled like chocolate and cinnamon in here. His grin turned a little sad. The girl that would always visit him had used to smell like that. She was the wife of a baker. She had stopping coming to visit a while ago. He was afraid to go into town and find out what happened to her, in case she was gone.

He pushed it away. Now was not the time to be thinking about her. He had toys to steal.

He rounded a corner a little fast and landed headlong into something soft and harry. He _umphed _and the thing grunted as he bounced away, sprawling through the air gracelessly. His staff clattered to the ground somewhere around the thing's legs. His powers suddenly dampened, he was dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

He lay stunned for a moment. Who the hell puts a giant teddy bear in the middle of the hallway? He discovered after a moment that it wasn't a teddy bear. It was giant, and it was fuzzy, but it was also looking down at him with as much perplexity as if he'd just sprouted another head.

Jack got off the ground slowly, watching the yeti as if it were about to attack him. The brow on it's face rose slowly, green eyes hilariously wide.

"Oh, hey, sorry. Didn't see you there." He spoke calmly, trying to keep a joyous panic from gripping him. So he did not care if it was a giant, fat, fuzz monster staring him down. _It was staring him down_. He grinned, dipping his head so that white bangs fell into his eyes. He knew it was a cute gesture. It always melted… someone he could never remember.

The yeti blinked, then bent to pick up his staff. It looked so flimsy in the giant's paw, even though he was so gentle with it. He did not hand it back, but held on to it, gesturing for jack to follow, saying something is yetish.

"Uh, sorry, but I don't speak grunt." He did not care. The yeti looked back at him with an irritated expression and Jack grinned. The very fact that the yeti was responding was something else entirely. His heart leapt with joy and his eyes prickled with relief. He was not alone.

He followed the yeti for a while, keeping up a narrative all the way until they reached a giant pair of red double doors. The yeti escorted him outside, handed back the staff, then closed the door as he went back inside.

Jack had been mid-sentence. Telling the yeti about how he wanted to meet North. The door slammed shut on his nose. Jack stood outside for a long time as a blizzard blew up around him. That yeti could see him.

He smiled at himself, sitting down against the door. The snow raging around him blocked out the moon. Not that he wanted to see him anyway. The Man in the Moon had made him, but forgot to tell him why. It did not matter that the yetis saw him. They did not care.

Nobody cared for little Jack Frost, bringer of cold and stagnant winter. Not even a creature that could not live without the things he brought.

_Afterword: For some reason I was thinking that Yetis was also the singular. Also, my inbox just exploded. Thanks everyone for so many favorites and alerts and the reviews I got. Also, to PrincessinHiding- I read your comment and the first thing I yelled was "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!" Just thought you should know._


	3. In Shadows We Drown Pt 1

Jack was panicking. It wasn't the little bit of panic that got your heart racing either. It was the kind of panic you get when you've realized that everything just very quickly turned to shit and no matter how hard you scramble to put things right, you can't.

His name was Kozmotis Pitchiner. He was the Nightmare King. And he loomed over the winter spirit like a shadow. Fear gripped his heart but he refused to back down. He refused to look away from bright amber eyes.

It did not matter that his staff was lost somewhere in the woods around them, or that Pitch was grinning at him because he knew he had won. It did not matter. Because he was not afraid. The children that coward in the hollow behind him could not see him, but they could see Pitch. Pitch could see him, and the King of Darkness looked down at him as if he were a bug that had crawled across his foot.

"What's this?" Pitch crooned softly. "A little sprite thinks he can stand up to me?"

"Yes." Jack's voice came out firmer than he felt and he thanked the Man in the Moon for that little bit of control. "I will not let you harm them." He spread his arms out to block as much of the children as he could from Pitch's sight.

Pitch laughed. It hurt Jack's ears and made his stomach turn. The children behind him cried and whimpered, calling out for help. Something nasty twisted Pitch's features. Jack thought perhaps it could have been a smirk if not for the snarl that curled his lips over grey razor teeth. "They cry out for help but they don't even realize that it stands in front of them. They don't believe in you, little sprite. How very sad. You must be so very lonely. No one to say hello, or good bye. No one to hug you. Not that anyone would want to hug you. You'd probably freeze them the moment they touched you."

Jack's face was stone. He refused to give in, refused to let his words gnaw away at the already bloody wounds on his spirit. "Go away, Pitch."

The Nightmare King laughed again, sending chills through Jack. What he wouldn't give to have his staff. "Even you know my name. But I don't even know yours."

"Frost. My name is Jack Frost."

"Jack Frost," Pitch said softly, smiling again. He reached a finger out to touch his forehead. Jack refused to flinch away, even though everything in him was screaming to get away. He glared at Pitch instead.

"Go away," he said again.

Pitch stopped smiling, as if he suddenly had grown bored of playing this game. Jack knew that was what he was without his staff. Just a game, a toy to be broken. Pitch no longer found him interesting.

He gathered the shadows around him, like a living mass. The children screamed and Jack found he was screaming too. He was drowning, freezing. It was so cold, colder than anything he had ever felt. It sucked the air from him and every time he tried to breeze, it was like ice had crawled down his throat. He thrashed against the darkness, against the water that threatened to swallow him alive. _At least Pippa is alive…_

No. No! He was not going to drown in ice. Ice was his, it could not kill him. It preserved him. And it was what was going to save those children. He lashed out, knowing that he was useless without his staff. But he was not going to just give up.

Light sparked in the darkness, a chill ran through him. He centered himself, lashed out again. A spider web of ice spread out, spinning and twisting in painful circles. Again, and cracks began to show. Again, and air filled his lungs. He gulped it down as if starved.

There was pain. Pain everywhere. It twisted itself inside his body, curling and carving and cutting until he was raw. The air was gone, he was drowning again. But he realized that he had done what he could. He caught a glimpse, though the crack he had made in the darkness. The children were safe, warriors that they believed in had come to save them. He had done his job. He had protected them the best he could. He let the ice water swallow his head as he surrendered to darkness.

_Afterword: Here, have ANOTHER! This one will be two parts. Mostly because I don't want to switch points of view. Drabbles are not long enough. So next one will be a continuation of this one. Thanks guys for letting me spam you so damn much. Also, the wiki says that Jack's sister's name is Pippa. Correct me if I'm wrong. That moment when he thinks of her is a remnant memory, nothing he's actually aware of. He associates the feeling of drowning with the relief his sister is alive, kind of like how certain smells remind us of certain things._


	4. In Shadows We Drown Pt 2

North was exhausted by the time Pitch finally retreated. A small victory was that Pitch was even worse off. The shadows had tried to swallow one of the children, but by the time the battle was over, Pitch had no choice but to abandon his catch and flee.

The boy lay deathly still, hair as white as snow and skin even paler. His lips were frozen blue, and when North touched his skin, it was like touching ice. He lifted the boy, just a teenager, fifteen maybe sixteen. He settled him in his arms, trying to warm him, trying to bring life back to the deathly tone of his skin. North was not ready to admit that he had failed yet.

Then it was like the boy had been burned. He jumped awake, thrashing widely, gangly limps surprisingly graceful. North had no choice but to let the wild wreck go. He rolled off of North's thighs, into the tangle of snow and roots around them. He huffed and puffed as he scrambled to his feet, finally stopping a few feet from where North was still crouched, bent a little in on himself. They stared for a long time, deep brown and ice blue.

Suddenly, the boy's expression lit up like a Christmas tree. He grinned, his eyes widening. "You're North. _The_ North."

North smiled. It was a long time since anyone had called him North. Santa Claus had become rather popular. The older man clambered to his feet, still keeping his distance from the boy. He was a little torn up from his scuffle with Pitch, a nice bruise blooming on his pale cheek. He was smiling despite and North nearly laughed. The animal hide cloak around his shoulders had torn, and it hung ragged on his left shoulder.

North gentled his expression. "Go home, boy. Your parents will be worried."

That bright grin disappeared in a wink. The boy scowled now, and snorted. He rolled shocking blue eyes. "Yeah, cause half frozen fish are really going to worry about me." There was no humor in his joke, even though his voice was light.

He spun on gangly limbs and started searching the bushes for something. North took a hesitant step forward, trying to see the boy properly. Now that he looked, North realized he was not one of the children. He was a spirit of the trees or something. A sprite.

North suddenly laughed and clapped a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. He jumped and tensed up under the weight, but did not immediately run away. He turned to look up at North through snowy bangs. "What?" He asked, his mouth somewhere between a pout and a smile.

"I've never known winter sprites to be protective of children. I thank you."

"I'm not a sprite," he deadpanned, looking suddenly disappointed.

"Oh? Then what? A winter spirit?" North knew that sprites and spirits hated being mixed up.

"No, I'm the Spirit of Winter. No winter sprite, nor winter spirit. Spirit of Winter." He made a motion with his hands to indicate distance. "Big difference."

North had stopped laughing, and had removed his hand from the frosted cloak. He squinted at the boy. No, the Man in the Moon would not do such a thing to a boy so young… Would he? "Who told you this?"

The boy shrugged and turned back to searching through the bushes for whatever he had lost. "The Moon," he said as if he'd meant to say Mum or something. "'Course, that was _all_ he told me," he added bitterly to himself.

Damn. North winced. Here stood in front of the Spirit of Winter that the Man in the Moon had warned him of, and for all he was expecting, it was not a boy so young. "The Moon," he echoed.

The boy waved his hands in a wild gesture. "I know. Crazy, right? Personally, I'm trying to get over the fact that I'm even having this conversation. Two in one day." The boy rewarded his confusion with a grin that could light the heavens. "But you aren't trying to kill me."

North suddenly remembered Bunnymund's urgent message detailing his own difficulty in his warren. "I must go."

The boy suddenly turned, the look of absolute horror reflected in his blue eyes made North stop for half a second. "You're going after Pitch?" He asked. He swung around, his search turning more frantic as he waded deeper into the bushes in search of his lost item. "Just give me a second to find my staff. I can help."

North was already heading for his sleigh. "I am sorry. This is urgent. We will talk again, Spirit of Winter." He took the reins in his hands and whipped his reindeer into action, trying to ignore the dejected pain he knew was coming from the boy.

_Afterword: Okay, four in one day. I'm tired now. It's nearly two in the morning. Thank you for all the nice things. There will likely be more tomorrow, and then probably another sprint when I go to see the movie again. Peace out._


	5. Hurtful Helpers

He had not actually meant to create a blizzard. It just… sort of happened. He had been pissed off. He had just wanted a little bit of snow to fall. That way when Bunnymund came, he would have more places to hide his eggs. He was trying to do something nice for the giant kangaroo. He could only imagine how pretty the Easter eggs would be against the stark contrast of the pure white snow.

So he had made it snow just a little. Not really a storm, just a light sprinkle that would start in the afternoon so the kids could play, then be fresh and pretty again when the morning came. But no one was happy about the late season cold. They moaned and groaned, saying that they were tired of snow, and wanted it to be warm already.

Jack tried to pretend that he was not hurt. He understood. Not everyone liked the snow, and as it got closer to spring and summer, people anticipated the thaw. No one wanted Jack Frost anymore.

So Jack decided he'd go out with a bang. Except that the little flurries he'd intended to make suffered the brunt of his frustrations. The weather always reacted to how he was feeling. The blizzard raged for hours on Saturday and into the night, only finally letting up a little after dawn, when Jack had strained himself into exhaustion.

He cleared the clouds, chased them away so that the bright spring sun could make his creations shine. And he sank down into his empty winter wonderland. Nothing stirred, nothing disturbed his snow. He was so tired; he rested in a bed of ice, far from content but unable to do anything.

Something hit him square in the chest, making him gasp and jolt upright. He thrashed at the enemy, Pitch coming to his mind. He cleared his vision, looking up at the slate grey fur of the Easter Bunny.

"You," Bunnymund greeted. He scowled angrily at Jack with the force of a thousand summer suns.

"Oh, hello." Jack was still unused to conversation. The most conversation he really had was yelling at Phil while the yeti tried to catch him. "Happy Easter."

The scowl deepened and the kangaroo twirled a boomerang expertly in his paws. "Happy Easter? That's all you can say?"

Jack looked around him. The only disturbance in his snow was the footprints that Bunnymund had left behind when he approached Jack. Jack smiled, even though he felt disappointment and guilt swell in his heart. "I was trying to be helpful. Things got out of hand."

"Helpful?" Bunny's eyes widened dramatically, as if he really could not believe what Jack was saying. "You think dumping a ton of ice and snow is really going to be helpful?"

"I hadn't intended there for be a blizzard." Jack reached for his staff, only for Bunny to plant his foot on it to keep it down.

"Well, I see that worked out for ya, didn't it."

Jack glared. "Oh come on, Bunny. Think about it! Just a light sprinkle of snow to coat the ground. More places for your eggs to hide in. Can you imagine how pretty your eggs would be against pure white snow?" He tried to share his vision with the pooka, he really did. He grinned and tugged at the staff briefly.

Bunny faltered for a second, letting the staff go. With his powers restored, Jack lifted off the snow to float in front of Bunny. The pooka took a step back, not expecting it. The glare came back. "Well, the next time you feel like helping, don't. We have enough trouble without having to deal with an angry winter sprite."

"Oh, for the love of- I am not a sprite!"

"Really, because last I checked, children don't believe in you. If you were a real spirit, they would believe in you. Then you wouldn't be invisible."

Jack pushed away the sting that his words smacked across his shoulders and chest. "At least I'm not a kangaroo pretending to be a bunny."

Bunny did not react, outwardly, but Jack saw the flicker of indignant rage in his eyes. "Get out of here, Frost. Go to where ever it is that you hide in the summer." Bunny turned and opened one of his holes. He waved a paw at Jack from over his shoulder. "Winter is over, no one needs you anymore." Bunny leapt through the hole before Jack could get a word in edgewise.

There were several blizzards that Easter day, after the one that plagued the North American town. A cold anger swept up the heavens in such a furry, everyone felt Jack Frost's anger, even if no one realized it was him that did it.

_Afterward: Holy crap. I got up this morning to find that my email had been flooded. Thank you so much for the kind words and actions. All of the reviews make me giggle. The thing that was plaguing me last night was the first chapter. I made the novice mistake of introducing Pippa in the first sentence and I realize that she could very easily be mistaken for an oc. I'm not sure if I should fix that or not. I don't usually write drabbles, let alone freestyle like this. That's why the first one is really crappy, because I was trying to limit myself. Anyway, I still have a few more ideas, but if there anything you all want to see? I would happily take a few requests._


	6. A Few Favors to Nearly Ruin Christmas

Jack Frost and Rudolf were two very similar people. Well, reindeer and spirit at least. They both knew what it felt like to be so incredibly alone. They both knew what it was like to try to help, only to make things worse. Jack liked the little reindeer, and he was pretty sure the little reindeer liked him.

Rudolf was still a child, by standard, and Jack's unexplained urge to help the innocent attracted him to the outcast's plight. He smiled as he floated above the little red-nosed wonder. Rudolf looked up at him with a touch of wonder that warmed Jack. "Would you like to play a game with me?" He asked.

Rudolf looked at the snow he was half buried in after he'd been pushed in by the other reindeer. He looked up at Jack after a moment, brown eyes suspicious. "What kind of game?"

Jack's grin widened. "The kind of game that I can only play with you."

The little head tilted, one ear flopped over in confusion. He had the right to be suspicious, Jack supposed. No one ever wanted to play with him. Jack would have felt the same way if he's been in his hooves.

"I want to see how bright your nose really is."

"I already know." Rudolf explained. "It's doesn't matter how dark it is, my nose can shine brighter than anything."

Jack's heart leapt with excitement. "Even a blizzard of epic proportions?"

Jack could see the cogs turning in the reindeer's head as he thought it over. "What are you planning? And who are you?"

"I'm Jack Frost, bringer of cold and winter."

The reindeer frowned. "It's almost Christmas. Why would you want to have a blizzard?"

"To make sure that everyone sees your nose for what it can really do. I can stop or start the storm anytime I want. If you don't think you can do it, I'll stop the storm. All you have to do is say the word."

The reindeer mulled it over for a minute. "You'd do that for me? Why?"

Jack's smile gentled. "Because I know how you feel. No one should feel like that."

Rudolf pulled himself from the snow his haunches had still been buried in. "Okay! A blizzard on Christmas Eve. Just strong enough to hold the sleigh up, but not strong enough for me." Rudolf was smiling up at him, popping off the ground in his excitement.

Jack spun in the air, happiness bubbling up from somewhere in his stomach. "It's settled then."

Rudolf stopped for a second. "Won't you get in trouble, though?"

Jack shrugged. "Probably. But it won't matter. It's not like Old North will do anything. He'll be too stressed out. By the time he has time to get after me, he'll be so happy that you saved Christmas, that it'll be worth whatever he tries to do to me."

Rudolf smiled gently up at Jack and they went about planning. Their ultimate plan went off without a hitch. Rudolf managed to slip outside during the Christmas day celebration, sneaking a few cookies out with him. The runway was still covering in snow when he went out, standing in the center of it, reliving briefly the elation of feeling the harness, knowing he was saving Christmas for millions of children.

Jack appeared after a moment, drifting down like the snowflakes me created. Rudolf put the bag of cookies down at his hooves so he could speak to the spirit. "I want to thank you."

Jack shrugged, his staff coming to rest on the ground, himself perched on the hook. The hood of blue jacket was up so that only a wild tuft of white hair poked out. Rudolf could still see the mischievous glint in the shadow that it cast. "There's no need, Rudolf. Just remember to remember little Jack Frost every once in a while, and I'm happy."

The reindeer nudged the cookies toward the base of the staff. "These are for you. The elves make killer cookies."

Jack smiled and nodded. He would retrieve them from the ground when Rudolf left. Jack was a little antsy. The yetis had been on the lookout for the white-haired menace since the weather kicked up. He would be happier the less time he spent on the ground, and Rudolf knew that.

"I wish that I wasn't the only one that will remember you, Jack. For someone that everyone speaks badly of, you sure do nice things."

Jack laughed. "Creating a blizzard on Christmas Eve is really a nice thing? Never thought I'd hear that."

"Yeah well, you really helped me out." When Jack's lips twisted into a gentle smile, Rudolf knew he had said the right thing. "I would have been an outcast forever if it wasn't for you. You have no idea how grateful I am. You will always be my greatest friend, Jack Frost."

Jack was silent, and Rudolf knew better then to think that the two shining eyes deep within the shadows of the hood were not welling up with half frozen tears.

With one last parting grin and thanks, the little reindeer headed back to his party.

Jack did pick up the cookies, putting the little red bag in his hoodie pocket and letting the wind pick him off the ground. He left Santoff Claussen, a smile on his face that not even the silence could dampen.

_Afterword: All requests will be categorized and most likely written. I'm trying to keep these things in a somewhat chronological order. If it deviates, I'll tell you, but I won't jump forward, then back. I'll only jump back. Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews. And yes, I am working fast, because the bug has bitten and if I wait, it will just fester in my brain until I die. True facts._


	7. A Silence in the Empty Rooms

Phil always knew when Jack Frost was around. The way the snow fell was different. He was pretty sure he was the only one that noticed. Jack had made it a game with the yeti. He would always sneak in the same window on the upper most floor on the east side of the complex. He would always wait in the halls for Phil to show up. He would then dash along, using that blasted staff to make the floors slippery.

Phil had the feeling that Jack could have very well gotten into the workshop by now. The wind was literally behind that child. But no, Jack enjoyed playing his game more then actually trying to break in. Phil had hated him the first few times he had tried. Then he realized that Jack was just lonely.

North did not have time for wayward winter spirits, Tooth and Sandy were always somewhere else, doing something important. Bunny was not the kind of person that could tolerate someone like Jack. But Phil actually liked the boy. He'd seen what the boy had really done during that blizzard on Christmas Eve last year. North still cursed him for it, but no one could deny that without, no one would have realized what kind of hero a reindeer like Rudolf could be.

It was snowing in the special way again. Phil was head of security. It was his job to make sure nothing got in. But he always dealt with Jack personally. Phil told himself it was because Jack would only play with him and would actively try to give any other yeti the slip. He did not know if that was actually true, of course, but it was better excuse then saying that he liked to see the boy grin and laugh as he danced through the air like a snowflake.

The upper halls were empty. He checked the guest rooms up here, saving Jack's for last. Well, it was not really Jack's room, but it was the one he always came in. It was the one with the biggest window. He finally broke down and went there.

Jack sat curled up on his on the bed, fast asleep. Phil froze in the doorway, taking in the sight. Jack Frost made everything cold. The room was cold, even though the window had been closed, something Jack never did. There was a nice layer of frost on the bed covers, around were Jack laid.

Phil sighed, not sure what emotion he was feeling. Pity, worry, sadness. Maybe relief that of all the places Jack chose to rest, it was here. Phil had never seen the spirit rest before. He was always moving, always grinning and playing. There had been a big storm in southern California yesterday, Phil recalled. They had gotten snow at one point. Jack had likely over-extended himself.

The yeti really did not like sleeping Jack. He reminded him of death. So cold, so very still, and impossibly pale. Phil pulled the chair in the corner closer to the bed, careful not to scrape it across the floor and make a lot of noise. It creaked as he sat down and waited for Jack to awaken.

It did not take long. The spirit was not used to other presences around him. He woke with a jolt, sitting upright to look at Phil with a measure of surprise.

"Oh, hey Phil. That's creepy. Watching me sleep and stuff."

The yeti shrugged, saying something in yetish that he knew Jack would never understand.

"I guess you caught me." Jack shrugged, and Phil hated the sadness in his voice.

He grunted, pushing a paw against Jack's shoulder.

Jack got the question. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

That was not what was wrong. That was a flimsy excuse. Phil rolled his eyes and grabbed the hoodie, pulling the boy into a hug. The yeti could feel the cold of the boy, like hugging an ice cube. Jack hesitated, obviously not used to physical contact. Eventually, he hugged back, clinging to grey fur as if it was a life line and he was drowning.

Phil did not let go until he knew Jack had fallen asleep again. He sat back in the chair, dragging the boy into his lap and falling into a light slumber himself.

When he woke, the sun had set and Jack was gone. On the pillow sat a miniature ice figure. Phil picked it up gently, examining the little frozen yeti and all the exquisite detail. All the way down to lines on the belly to indicate fur.

Phil took the mini yeti and put it in the windowsill. The room was silent as Phil admired it. The silence hurt, but at least the room was not empty. At least it had some evidence that Jack Frost existed.

_Afterword: This was originally number six, but I decided to write Rudolf's chapter first. Also, is it just me, or if Fanfiction having some serious issues. I always check to make sure that my story updated correctly, by looking at the public version. But for some reason, it was not coming to the top and still said there were five chapters, hours after I posted six. I'm curious if I'm the only one. I did not get the flood to my inbox like I did this morning so I wasn't sure. Also, Myself is Me, regarding your request. What do you mean by vulnerable? Emotionally, or physically? Or both?_


	8. Half Frozen Tears

_I've skipped ahead to after the events of the movie. From now on, I'll tell you what time period it is, because I may jump around. Requested by ForgetTheWalls97._

"The first step to knowing Jack, is to understand how he became an immortal." Tooth was saying, flitting around sorting canisters, looking for the one with the grinning, dark haired boy on the side.

Jack had given it back to Babytooth for safe keeping, after the battle with Pitch. But that did not mean that the little hummingbird had sorted it right. Tooth did all the main sorting.

North, Bunny, and Sandy watched her in silence. Jack had run off somewhere in the night, and they had not seen a hair of him since. He was still a loner at heart. Three hundred years of solitude was not going to fix itself overnight.

She made a sound of victory and flittered over to them, depositing the little gold canister in North giant hand. "There we go. Everyone hold on. Go on, North, open it up."

"Isn't this an invasion of-" Bunny was not able to finish as he watched with some measure of horror and awe as the palace walls crumbled away and they came to stand in the center of a small settlement. It had to have been late winter. There was a gentle glow to the forest around them, the sun slanted in the way that suggested the cold season. There was still snow on the ground but it was beginning to thaw.

It took them a moment to see him. At first none of them could pick out which one of the romping children was Jack. They seemed to be having a mock battle of some sort. Certain children against others, but it was obvious that none of them knew who was the ally, and who was the enemy.

Then they saw him. He was maybe fourteen, younger than they were used to. His cheeks were flushed with effort, his nose red from the cold. His hair was the same mess, just dark muddy brown. His eyes were the same color as his hair, but they still had that mischievous glint that hinted at so much trouble. He was wielding his shepherd's hook like a sword, doing battle with the other children.

Bunny laughed a little as he watched Jack hook the crook of his staff around another boy's waist and throw him off balance and out of the fight. He turned to block an incoming strike from another stick, only to be taken out at the knees by a third boy to join the mix. "Crickey, he's not bad."

North laughed. "Jack is good warrior. But we already knew that."

Jack had recovered from his fall, tripping the boy and stealing a stick right from the hands of another. One by one, they all surrendered to him until they had all retreated to the edges of the circle. Jack planted his staff on the ground triumphantly, as if claiming his territory, before finally approaching a mousy haired girl that was grinning. He bent to one knee in front of her, kissing her hand so that she giggled. "My fair lady."

Sandy made the figure of a swooning lady over his head.

"Indeed, Sandy. A real lady's man." North laughed.

"Jack," the girl laughed. "You saved me from such evil beasts. How can I ever repay you?"

Jack stood and took her hand. "Just eat all your dinner tonight and we'll call it even, okay?"

She was much younger than him, and much smaller. Maybe six or seven years old. But they knew that she was his sister.

It was getting dark and the other boys all were called home. Jack still held Pippa's hand as they walked home. He left her on the doorstep to their little cottage, greeting an older woman that had to have been his mother. Then he ran out the door and left the town. He met his father in the woods, handing him the Shepard's hook.

The older man took it, examining the wood, then the boy. "What took so long?"

"Mama needed me to find Pippa. Sorry Dad."

The man looked at his son with a raised eyebrow. "Did retrieving your sister include sparring again?"

Jack winced, and turned to pick up a trailing lamb. "Evil beasts, Dad. You always tell me to protect her, so I did," he said whimsically, carrying the lamb back to the herd. The man laughed, clapping his son on the shoulder. He handed the hook back.

"Here, son. This is yours now. Take good care of it."

Jack looked down at the staff, a grin splitting his face.

The scene suddenly changed. Jack was older now, and so was Pippa. She was crying, and he had panic in his eyes. He was trying to squash it down by smiling at her. "We're going to play a game, alright?"

"That's what he said to Jamie," Tooth whispered, hands coming to her face as she saw the scene in it's entirety.

The ice beneath both of their feet cracked and groaned. Jack was barefooted on the ice. North recognized the animal hide cloak from the first time he had seen the boy. Bunny had lowered himself on his haunches and was waiting for the inevitable. Sandy was as still as stone. They already knew, and yet they held their breaths.

"No games, Jack. This isn't fun anymore."

Jack's smile never faltered. "Have I ever played a trick on you?"

"Yes, always," she cried, her voice breaking.

"You just have to believe in me."

Tooth made a noise beside North and he held her tiny shoulder.

"We're going to play hopscotch, like we do every day."

She nodded, calming her tears. She did believe in her brother, she had faith that he would save her and they would go home together, like every day.

"You're going to take three steps." He knelt to pick up his staff from the ice. "Like this." He took a step toward her and the ice cracked. "One," he took another, "two," and the last. "Three. Okay, your turn." He crouched and extended the hook, even as the ice kept groaning and cracking under him.

She took a slippery step forward, cracks spinning out like spider webs. "Jack!" She cried.

"You're doing great. One," he counted.

She took two more, barely large enough steps and he counted. On the third, he hooked her around the waist and flung her across the ice. She skidded all the way to the bank, where she stopped to turn and look at her brother. The grin on her face vanished in an instance as the ice popped.

The sound of it breaking struck the Guardians harder than Pitch could ever. They watched as fear darkened Jack's face. The ice broke and crumbled beneath him. The water swallowed him in seconds.

Tooth jumped forward, yelling something incoherent. Bunny stopped her, even as the scene changed. It was suddenly so very cold, and so frighteningly dark. Jack thrashed in the water, but he was sinking, his limbs freezing and locking up. The surface faded away, and the silhouette of a girl as she pounded on the ice was the last thing they all saw before it became nothing but darkness.

The scene changed again. This time it was the Jack they knew. White hair and blue eyes, with the wind behind his every action. "Hey!" He yelled, running into the town that they knew from only moments ago. "You've all got to see this!" He jumped in front of someone, greeting them briefly and telling them that he had ice powers. He was cut off, choked off as she walked right through him.

He spun, watching. "Hey," he called again, this time it felt wrenched from his chest. Tears prickled at his eyes but froze on his cheeks as he called for someone to look at him. He could not seem to breath, and Tooth wanted nothing but to hold him.

He cried over and over for someone to listen. But no one did. They walked right through him as if he was not there. He came to the slow realization that he was not.

"I'm dead," he said to himself. No one was going to hear him. "I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead." He chanted, his voice breaking into a half broken sob. He smacked his forehead a few times, as if trying to pull himself together. "But-how-when…" he suddenly turned in a flash, angry eyes on the Moon. "Why?" he asked.

There was no answer. There was never an answer.

_Afterword: Okay, that last bit depressed even me. This one is way longer than the others. Anyway, ForgetTheWalls97 requested that I write one where the other Guardians look as Jack's memory through his teeth. They did not specify which memories, so I just winged it and did a little bit of both. I hope this is to your enjoyment._


	9. Selfish Little Smiles

_Set after the movie. Part two of "Half Frozen Tears", as requested by Arette. This is also a light follow up of "Hurtful Helpers"._

"Hey Bunny," Jack's voice floated down one of the tunnels of the warren, accompanied by a chill of cold air.

Bunnymund sat up a little straighter, setting the egglet on the ground. He looked in the direction of the voice, his ears perked.

"Hey!" Jack called again.

A chill raced down Bunny's spine. The same call for attention as before. Bunny refused to let it go unanswered. He knew what it felt like to be walked through. He knew that belief in the winter spirit would not swell overnight, but Bunny would at least try to make sure that _someone_ heard the boy.

He hopped up the tunnel to where the boy was being hilariously manhandled by several of his egg golems. Jack was desperately trying to turn in their short arms for his staff. Bunny smirked, hopping between their legs to retrieve the shepherd's hook before it was crushed.

Holding it in his paws was different then seeing the nonchalant way Jack did. It was light, almost flimsy. The wood was dark pine, sturdy, but age had splintered it. In his paws, it did not glow like it did in Jack's. For Bunny, it was nothing more than a stick. To Jack it was the conduit to vast powers.

"Bunny, I know it's pretty, but could you please give it back. Or tell them to stop. Or, hey, maybe both! Both would be great." He was cut off as one of the golems dropped him. The other one managed to keep a hold on his ankles. Poor Jack dangled from his bare foot, thrashing against the stone claw holding him.

Bunnymund smirked, putting the staff on the wall where it would be safe. He moved to leave, smirking as Jack sputtered indignantly for the pooka to come back.

"Oh, come on, Bunny. Please don't ignore me." Bunnymund knew that Jack did not mean for it to strike the cord in the pooka that it did. "If this is about '68, I'm sorry. I'll never make a snowflake in March or April again, I promise." He yelled as the golem swung him like a rag doll.

Bunny turned back, thinking about that Easter for a moment. Bunny held up a paw for the golems to stop. They dropped Jack, who landed in a graceless heap at their feet. Stepping back, they gave room for Bunny to approach and help Jack to his feet. Bunny could feel the cold of his long finger even through his fur.

The pooka stepped toward the staff while Jack straightened his hoodie. When he handed it back, his paw had not completely left it when ice races through the wood. It numbed his hand, frost collecting in the tufts of slate grey fur.

"Oh, sorry," Jack mumbled, brushing a hand across the back of Bunny's paw, taking most of the ice with him, but none of the chill.

"What d'ya want, Jack?" It had not come out the way Bunny had intended and he wished he could take it back as soon as it left his lips.

Jack grinned but the telltale glimmer of concealed rejection frosted blue eyes. "North wanted me to check on the warren. He's real busy. The last push till Christmas, y'know? You've been pretty quiet."

"I'm fine. Tell North we're all good on this end, mate."

Jack bowed his head, not quite a nod, but definitely an affirmative. "Will do," he stalled for a second, looking at the egg golems with a fair measure of suspicion.

Bunny smiled down at the boy. "Jack, about the blizzard of '68-"

Jack turned so fast, cutting Bunny off. "I meant what I said. I guess we're friends now so I actually have to abide by the rules of-"

"What do ya mean 'guess we're friends'?"

"Oh, well, I just assumed-"

"O'course we're friends, ya gumby." He ruffled Jack's hair playfully and enjoyed the way his eyes brightened. They did not seem so cold, so uncertain, so… adult. He looked at Bunny like a child and that made the pooka feel warm. "You won't be ignored anymore, Frostbite. You do exist, and we'll make sure every child knows it."

Jack laughed. "Okay, where the heck it this coming from?" He was grinning despite the confusion.

"Ah, nothing. Just making sure ya don't get any stupid ideas in that slushy heady of yours."

Jack scoffed, but the smile never left. Bunny liked this smile. This was a different smile then he had seen before. This one did not hint at trouble. This one was not hiding pain, or trying to give courage. No, this little smile on pale blue lips, was selfish and happy and Bunny loved being the one that made it appear.

_Afterword: This one got a little out of hand. It was originally all of them, but it was so cheesy that it hurt. So Bunny got some advice giving practice. Besides, I have this version of Jack in my head that hides his pain. He doesn't want people seeing it because he's the Guardian of Fun. He can't be caught being all sad. So he hides behind smiles and laughs. I would think that he puts on that front for the other Guardians as well, but they're always trying to coax real responses from him, not his autopilot masks. It's easier for him to do it individually, but he'll eventually be able to drop the act around them. My poor version of Jack is so damaged…Anyway, it's 3 am, I'm going to bed now. Peace out, folks!_


	10. A Comedy of Melted Ice

_Set after the movie._

He could fix it. Pitch knew that, Jack knew that. The winter spirit had no idea why the Nightmare King insisted on breaking his staff. It lay in two pieces on both sides of him. He could fix it, just not right now. Everything hurt right now, he just needed a rest.

The fight had been intense. Jack had been in a desert, giving a light night time frost. Dawn broke as he had chased the Moon across the horizon, and the sun chased him in return.

The next thing he knew, Pitch was on him, drowning him in black sand. He had fought; the vast structure of frozen sand he leaned against was a testament. It was melting so fast now, the sand burning away in the sunlight.

Jack watched it with a sense of misplaced foreboding. He could not place why it worried him that his ice was melting. It melted all the time. He even intended for this ice to melt. Ice did not last long in the desert. Only at night, when the air was so delightfully cold.

Then it struck him as a funny thought. He'd never really stuck around to watch his ice melt. It was fascinating how the sun bore holes into it, how it tumbled and collapsed. He laughed, because what else could he do? He found it sad, so he laughed harder. That was what Jack always did. He laughed when he felt like crying.

He felt like he had been put into an oven, and he laughed at that too. He found it ironic because he was always so cold. He was finally warm now and he could not get comfortable.

He wished Bunny was here. Bunny would slap him and tell him to stop doing all the crazy things he had always done to ease the silence. He would tell him that Jack did not have to do them anymore, because he would never be alone again. The silence now was deafening and heavy.

He wished North was here. North would be flipping his lid like a father of a newborn. Unsure of what to do, but wanting to help anyway he could. Jack would tell him that he could take care of himself, and that he did not have to worry. North would tell him that he was silly to think that he would ever not worry about their newest little Guardian.

He wished that Sandy was here. Sandy knew how to make the silence fun. He would never say a word, and yet his voice could never be ignored. Sandy knew quiet, and he always made Jack feel better, even when he dreamed of darkness and drowning.

He wished Tooth was here. She would flit around like a doting mother. Asking a million questions and urging him to speak. Jack would tell her of all the things he found funny. Sometimes she would laugh, other times she covered her mouth and held back tears. Jack always took back whatever he had said then, and asked her to play in the wind with him. Tooth was always happy to go flying with him, laughing as she let the wind carry her, too.

There was a shadow over him, blocking out the sun. At first he thought it was Pitch and he glared up at him. Daring him to kill him, even though he knew he could not fight anymore. But the shadow was too big, too round.

He found himself laughing again, and this time it was not forced from his chest. It fluttered out uncontrollably because he knew that North worried for him, and had come to look for him.

He was picked up into arms like tight cords of muscle wrapped in velvet. He ran a finger over the fabric, liking the way it felt beneath pale fingers. "Hold on, Jack. We'll get you home."

He laughed at that too. What was home? The little gest room with the frozen yeti in the window? Yes, yes it was. That was his room now, that was his home. As well as the half frozen lake in Bunny's warren, and the room in the highest tower in Tooth's palace, and the whole north wing of Sandy's castle.

"North, my staff." He felt like he had been choked. His throat hurt like someone had shoved a fire down it.

"It's okay, Jack. We'll get you a new one."

Like a distant memory that flittered across his mind. _Here, son. This is yours. Take good care of it._

He could not stop the tears that prickled in his eyes, even when he tried to laugh them off. "I can fix it," he told North.

The last thing he remembered was that terrible feeling of swirling through a portal, and the blessedly cool air on his skin, and North's voice, telling him everything was going to be alright.

_Afterword: I've been wanting to do this one since I saw the movie. I know some people requested vulnerable Jack or Hurt Jack. So here you go. This one is a two parter. I had been listening to Trifonic but this one was inspired a little by "Slow Me Down" by Emmy Rossum. Great song, thought it fit a little. Thank you to everyone that's reviewed so far. I mean, wow! Someone said I should be a professional writer and you really have no idea how much that tickled me pink. My roommate thought I was high, I was grinning so much. So thank you to everyone for all the kind words. You guys really make it all worth it. Also, I spelled Rudolph wrong in his chapter. Thank you for pointing that out, I thought it looked wrong. I'll fix that as well as the myriad of other typos._


	11. The Gift of Laughter

_Set after the movie. A follow up of "A Comedy of Melted Ice"._

It took them hours to kill the flush in his cheeks. They opened all the windows, killed the heater, gave him a snow bath, had the yetis bringing buckets of ice. They thought they had lost him at one point. The frost on his hood had melted, his hair damp with sweat. He had stopped breathing for a second, but it had felt like an eternity.

Pain had come over his unconscious face, curling his nose, screwing his eyes shut. Then he went limp. The chill in the air was suddenly different, suddenly empty and silent and it _hurt._

Tooth let out a noise between a scream and a sob and it broke her little body, as well as the spirits of the Guardians. She darted forward, yelling his name, demanding that he _come back_. She gripped thin shoulders and pushed him against the sheets. He pulled him up, then down. Shaking and pleading, tears streaming from her face and sobs tearing from her throat.

Sandy was a stone, staring at the little frozen yeti that had been in the window since forever it seemed. His little fingers stroked the little details, refusing to look at the boy on the bed, to look at the breaking Tooth as she _demanded_ that Jack wake up and smile.

Bunny brushed it off, going to the door. He tried to hide the tears that were beginning to wet the fur on his face, tried to clamp down on the way his whole body trembled with the effort he was putting into keeping himself together.

North collapsed against the wall, head resting in his hands. Exhaustion and failure dragged him down and he was quiet. He had no jovial remark this time, had no idea how to make everything better. That had been Jack's job. The room was filled with an unfathomable silence that ate at their hopes and spirits.

But then he was back. He sucked in a shuddered breath as if he'd been underwater. His eyes opened as power surged back into his veins. They all knew that the Man in the Moon had taken pity on them. He had given Jack back to them. He sat up with a yell, as if he'd been shot with adrenaline. North was off the ground and holding his shoulder as he shook, his hands scrambling in blind panic across his arms. Tooth was holding him, hugging his head to her, threading small hands in suddenly frozen hair. Bunny was holding the shoulders too, frost racing up his arms, but he did not seem to care. Sandy floated above them, sprinkling dreamsand over Jack's head until he stopped yelling and slumped against Tooth.

Jack awoke hours later, finding them all in various states of sleep, collapsed against the far wall of his room. North was on bottom, with Bunny curled up to his side for warmth with North's huge arm wrapped around the pooka. Tooth was on his other side arms curled around Sandy, who was clutching the little yeti figure in his small hands.

Jack laughed, wishing for a camera in that instance. Once he started laughing, he couldn't stop. He laughed long and hard, finally coming up gasping for air and wheezing. They had awoken by then, and were staring at him with a sort of star-struck contentment. He was not laughing this time to try to cover the silence, or to hide his sadness. He was laughing now because the Moon was still echoing in his head. _They love you, and they always will._

He was crying and laughing, but his tears did not freeze on his face. He chocked it up to the heat exposure, his body still unable to do what it usually did. There was a part of him that told him that it was because his heart was finally thawing, that he did not have to be so cold anymore. He grinned even as tears rolled down his pale cheeks. He cried when North brought him a crushing embrace, when Bunny ruffled his hair with trembling paws, and Sandy smiled, still clutching the yeti, and when Tooth cried too.

He laughed and cried because he knew it was finally okay to do both. This was his family and they loved him. For that alone, all the silence and loneliness did not seem as painful.

_Afterword: Should I have put a tissue alert on the beginning of this? Or am I the only that was ugly crying? I had to take a few breaks. This one is probably my favorite so far. _


	12. An Unbreakable Spirit

_Set after the movie, the third part of "A Comedy of Melted Ice" and "The Gift of Laughter"._

It took Jack a week to get better. Well, it took him a week to finally have the strength to give Phil the slip. The yeti was _not_ happy about this. Mostly because if Jack had had full range of his powers it would have been understandable, but he could barely frost a window without his staff.

Which was why it took him so long to finally go to North to tell him that he had lost the devilish little winter spirit. His yetish was scrambled and North really only caught "Jack" and "out the window". It was enough for the Russian to raise an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"He is child, Phil. And you lost him? Do you have any idea where he went?"

Phil shook his furry head, green eyes wide in alarm.

"He could not have gotten far without his staff." North mourned the breaking of Jack's conduit. He thought maybe he could find another for the boy, but he knew better. That staff had been a gift from his human father. It was special and could never be replaced. Jack would either have to figure out a way to use his powers without it, or find another.

Phil took off into the workshop, telling every yeti to keep on the lookout for white-haired trouble. He could not cause as much damage as usual, but they did not want him to over extend himself. Jack was worse than Bunnymund when he had gotten a cold (thanks to one of Jack's winter storm back before they really knew him). He complained and yelled and caused noise and disturbance and demanded to be let go. He asked for his staff a few times, but none of them had the heart to tell the boy that it had been broken.

They had kept it. Picked it up when they had gotten Jack. Broken or not, it was still his only belonging.

North put on his coat and hat, knowing that if the yetis and elves could not find him, he was likely outside. He was in fact. North found him in the stable, talking to Rudolph and Prancer. He stopped in the door, knowing that no one could see him.

"I don't know where they would put something like that," Rudolph was saying. "I can ask the elves. It's likely they will know. Nobody gives them any credit but sometimes I think they know more than the yetis."

Jack made a disappointed noise. "You speak elf and yetish?"

"Of course," Prancer's smooth voice cut in. "We kind of have to."

"Maybe Phil can teach me after he's done being mad at me."

Rudolph laughed. "What did you do to the poor fellow this time?"

"Oh, I just gave him the slip. You should have seen his face when I jumped out the window. He wasn't expecting it and I swear he was about to leap out after me."

Prancer guffawed. "Was that why he was stuck in that window?" Jack must have nodded because both reindeer burst into laughter.

"Okay, I'll admit. That was pretty funny," Rudolph chuckled. He sobered after a moment. "I'll ask around, though. If I hear any word of your staff, I'll tell you."

"Thanks, I'll owe you one."

"Nah, you owe me nothing, Frosty."

The conversation was obviously over and North knew that the only way for Jack to go was toward him. Sure enough, Jack froze in his tracks as soon as he rounded the corner and came face to belly with the Russian's imposing figure.

"Oh hey, North. Fancy meeting you here. What's up?" He started edging around North, hoping to get away. They both knew that Jack did not need the wind to be faster than North.

North sighed and put a hand on Jack's frosted shoulder. He had to tell him eventually. He knelt down to his level, a hand still on the shoulder. A worried look sparked into Jack's eyes, furrowing his brows and sharpening blue eyes. "Jack," North began. "Your staff…"

Jack gaped at him before he could finish. "You left it behind?" His voice cracked at the end and North winced.

"No, we did not. It's here."

Confusion and a touch of anger clouded his face. North had to remind himself that Jack may look like a child, may even act like it sometimes, be he was someone who had spent a very long time on his own, and he did not appreciate being denied. Especially if it was his own staff. "Then what's the problem?"

"It's broken, Jack. Pitch snapped it in half. It was like that when we found it."

North was not sure what he was expecting, but Jack's face smoothing into a relieved smile was defiantly not it. "Oh, is that all?"

North sputtered, standing in his surprise. "You are not… sad?"

"Pfft, no. Pitch has already tried to do that before. I can fix it. He was just hoping I would melt before you guys found me."

He sounded so nonchalant about it, as if it was not a big deal that Pitch had gotten close enough to break his staff before. This kid just was not lucky, was he? North sighed, half laughing. "Okay, Jack. You think you can fix it?"

"Of course. Maybe not right now." He said, nudging North's arm. "But probably tomorrow."

North wanted to see it, and so did all the other Guardians. Watching Jack's magic was like watching Sandy work. Beautiful and mesmerizing. It was late afternoon the day after before Bunny arrived, carrying the broken staff in a picnic blanket. They had given it to him in hopes that he would be able to mend it or grow another one. He'd been unsuccessful.

"There you are, mate. You sure you can do it?"

Jack was sitting up in his bed after having a nap. He had been sleeping a lot since he'd come to. It worried the other Guardians, but it was also a relief. When he was sleeping, he was not getting into trouble.

Jack nodded, undoing the knot, and folding back the cloth. The hook looked so sad. There wasn't a flake of frost on the wood, and it looked so dark and _dead._

Jack picked up the pieces. He put the wood together, his brow furrowing. With a flash, swirls of ice curled from his hands and raced through the wood. The break glowed, the ice melding the splintered wood back together.

Jack sat back in the bed, the newly mended staff held tightly to his chest. The effort had obviously wore him out, but he was content again. He smiled at them, and they got the idea.

The next time they saw Jack, he was flying in the skies around Santoff Claussen, the same Jack he had always been. It did not matter what Pitch did. The other Guardians knew that now. Jack would not break so easily, and whatever did break, they could always fix.

_Afterword: I really hate the ending. I don't know why. It doesn't seem right. I'm sorry if I jumped around a bit in this. I was meaning to do this, meant to say that there was one more for this arch in the last afterword, but I guess I forgot. Anyway, thank you to those that reminded me anyway. Also, yes. The song I mentioned, I first heard it in an amv I saw while I was tumbling down tumblr. So, I should give credit to whoever originally made it, but I have no idea who that was._


	13. Laughter Upon a Frozen Lake

_Set before the movie. Inspired by Hatsu Yukiya's drabble set "Snowflakes". More specifically, the fourth installment. Also a technical follow up of "Upon a Frozen Lake"._

He waited for her every day, and she never disappointed him. She always came, even when he knew she had better things to do then talk to someone she could not even see. It did not matter that she could not see him, he still loved having her come talk to him.

She spoke of her life. Everyday, she would come and tell him about her friends, about how she missed her brother. She told him that she had another little brother now, and that she would protect him like her brother had done before. She told him of how she had a crush on a boy, and later how the boy asked her to marry him. She told him about her parents died together in their sleep, and that it was a kind death. She told him about how her brother was getting married. She came everyday while she was pregnant and when they were born, she told Jack about her kids. She told him about her son, who she had named after her brother.

Even in her old age, she came to him. She wore a heavy shawl across her shoulder and hobbled on a cane. A child walked quietly behind her, a boy no older than five. Despite her age, she still walked between the roots and leaves as she had done everyday since the day her brother had fallen through the ice.

They stopped at the edge of the, Pippa sitting on a fallen trunk as the child ran to the edge of the water. It was early fall, and the water was still warm. Jack could not spend too much time here, but he refused to not come.

"Jackson," she called to the boy. "Come here and let Meema tell you a story."

The child stood from the edge of the lake and raced back to his grandmother. She lifted him up to sit on her knees. Jack drifted closer, setting in the grass to listen.

"Have you ever heard of Jack Frost?"

The child shook his head. Jack's eyes widened and he suddenly wanted to touch her. He had never tried to touch another person, he would always fade through them like a ghost.

Pippa smiled. "I dreamed of him last night. Want to hear the story?"

The boy nodded mutely and Pippa began.

"There was once a boy and a girl. Brother and sister, they were. They were the children of a shepherd. One day, the boy took his sister out to help him herd the sheep. It was the winter and the lake was frozen. The sheep were all safe so the boy decided to take his sister skating on the ice. They had such a grand time together.

"But then the ice beneath them cracked. The boy said he would play a game with his sister. She did not want to play a game, but he insisted. They played hopscotch across the ice, and he used his shepherd's staff to push her to safety. He was not able to and fell into the ice."

The boy frowned, pointing at the lake.

"That's right, Jack. This very lake. But that's not the end of the story, you see. The Moon saw the boy for such a hero, for sacrificing himself to save his sister. So he gifted him with new life, and raised him from the ice. The Moon named him Jack Frost, and he gave Jack the very powers of winter." Pippa smiled, gesturing to the woods around them. "So when the snow starts to fall, Jackson, I want you to think of old Jack Frost. He will thank you, and maybe even leave a little figure made of ice of the little boy with the shepherd's hook."

The boy smiled so brilliantly as he hopped out of his grandmother's arm. He walked forward a few steps, then pointed at Jack. "Jack Frost!" He yelled. Then, laughing, ran back to the edge of the lake.

Pippa watched him go, a small 'o' forming on her wrinkled lips. She suddenly turned her head back to where he had pointed. Jack felt eyes on him and turned his gaze to her as well. They stared at each other for a long moment, surprised gazes all around.

"J-Jack…?" She asked softly.

He could never deny the warmth that spread from his chest. "Hello, Pippa."

She stood, coming to stand right next to him. She reached a hand forward, touching his face. Jack was too terrified to move, his heart rattling against his ribcage. He was afraid he would wake and find this all a dream. "Jack," she said again, half strangled from her. "It's really you. You've come back."

"I don't think I ever really left, Pippa."

Her eyes widened, beautifully brown and so very warm. "You've been here every day, haven't you?"

He nodded. "Every day. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

She smiled, tears streaming from her eyes. "I knew I wasn't alone. I knew you were always there."

Eventually, her and young Jackson had to go home. Jack rested in the trees that night, deciding that Turkey and Headless wouldn't mind an early winter. He made it snow for Pippa, and for little Jackson.

That day was the last time he had ever seen Pippa. For a long time he refused to believe what he knew had happened. He wanted to believe that she was busy taking care of her grandchildren.

As a Guardian, Jack still visited the frozen lake that he had woken up in. He knew now that Pippa was still with him. She would never leave her brother. So when he raced through the trees, creating winter in his wake, he knew that Pippa laughed with him.

_Afterword: It's impossible! I cannot write happy things. Only stupidly sad or bittersweet. Seriously, I am so sorry. My intention was to make this sweet and fluffy, but then it mutated a little. Anyway, I go back to civilization tomorrow, where there is a movie theatre within reasonable distance. You can only guess what I'll be doing. Also, I WANT ART!_ _No, I'm kidding. I just really want to see old Pippa talking to Jack Frost, or Rudolph and Jack having a friendly conversation. Or Phil, wedged in a window on the highest place in Santoff Claussen. My dreams… they are so greedy. Uploads will slow down till the weekend because finals are approaching and stuff. Peace out, folks!_


	14. Together With Old Friends

_Post-movie, set before "A Comedy of Melted Ice" and it's arch. Requested by Haruhibunny._

The reindeer did not always come in the workshop. They usually stayed out in the barn, or ran around the mountainside. But Jack Frost was a new member of the Guardians and the newest resident of Santoff Claussen, and they were all understandably curious.

Most of them had heard of him. Only really the younger bucks had never heard of Jack Frost. Not since the Christmas he had almost ruined. A lot of the reindeer did not like him for that reason alone.

Rudolph could not be happier to see his friend from so long ago finally receiving the recognition that he so rightfully deserved. So he was the first of the reindeer to greet Jack. He could not wait for the winter spirit to go outside.

Phil did not like reindeer in the workshop just as much as the reindeer hated being in there. It made his job easy, but that did not mean he wasn't good at it. Rudolph smirked at the poor elf he carried in his teeth. It was silent as it was carried, playing with a cookie it had nicked from the party.

There was a light snowstorm, a true testament that Jack was really here. Rudolph used it to his advantage, take the elf and dangling him off the edge of the cliff. There was a fair bit of amusement when the loud little thing started shrieking like the whole mountain was about to come down on it. Rudolph snorted, nearly dropping him. It only shrieked louder.

The yeti guarding the door came running. Rudolph could hear him trudging through the snow long before he saw him. He plunked the elf down, still shrieking louder than the complex's klaxons, and darted up into the storm. He raced for the door, pushing it open. The door slammed into two more yetis on the inside and they tumbled forward on protruding bellies like some of the stuffed toys they made.

Rudolph leapt over them, half on the ground, half in the hair as he darted through the many halls until he found the globe room.

It was just North and Jack at the point when he burst in, half the yetis after him and heaving for air. Both North and Jack stood from the couch by the fire, alarmed and defensive.

Jack's face lit up like Rudolph's nose did on occasion and the reindeer knew it was instantly worth all the hassle and the traumatized elf he would have to answer for later. Everyone stared at each other in some form of shock. The yetis caught up to Rudolph but North held up his gigantic hand while the other came to rest on Jack's frosted hoodie. Rudolph caught the way Jack twitched, like he still was not used to the contact. The way North's hand tightened spoke that he had noticed it too.

"Jack," Rudolph greeted when he finally had enough air in his lungs. "I wanted to say hi." He finished lamely. To be honest, the reindeer had not prepared a speech and now that he was staring at his friend and his hero, he had no idea what to say.

Jack was good at easing tension. The boy could radiate confidence when everyone else was scrambled for purchase. He grinned at Rudolph, himself the very image of power and happiness. "Hi, Rudolph!"

The reindeer moved forward, breaking the distance and putting his head on Jack's unoccupied shoulder. He ignored the way the boy seemed to be surrounded by a cold wind, or that frost crawled up into the fur on his jaw. No, none of that matter because Jack suddenly threw his arms around Rudolph's neck in an embrace that spoke so much of how the boy still valued the reindeer's friendship.

North made the connection. "You two know each other…?" He deadpanned, a look between confusion and relief clouding his face.

Rudolph smiled sheepishly as Jack released him. "Uh, yeah. You remember that storm all those years ago?"

North sent a momentary glare at Jack and the boy flinched, his shoulders bunching in a halfhearted shame that Rudolph knew was not real. Jack would never be ashamed of what he did for Rudolph.

"Yeah, well. Jack did that for me. He helped people see me for my potential. I just wanted to be one the first to come congratulate him on getting people to see his."

Jack scuffed the ground with a barefoot, ducking his head to hide the purple blush that blossomed across his cheeks and even colored the tips of his ears. North watch it with a measure of interest, then suddenly burst into a laugh that could shake the eggnog glasses. He grabbed Jack's shoulder, shaking him in a way a father would when his son did something commend worthy. Jack's grin could never hide, no matter how far he ducked his head.

North suddenly sobered, pointing a finger in Rudolph muzzle, making the reindeer go cross-eyed to track it. "Don't ever do something like that again." He straightened, a smile on his face again, making the anger disappear in a flash. "Now, what was that yelling? It sounded like cats howling at the moon."

Phil answered that by dropping a very terrified elf on the ground by their feet. The thing's hood was filled with snow, the only thing still visible of it's face was it's mouth, wide open in terror. Rudolph could not hold it back anymore. He laughed harder than he had in his entire life, Jack still hanging on his shoulders like an old friend.

_Afterword: Phew! Made it, guys! Back home safe and sound. Went to see the movie again today and enjoyed it as much as I had the first time. I have about thirty more ideas, including the current requests, and some of them will be multi-chaptered. I'm always excepting more ideas though! Thank you to all of you kind people for everything that you guys have done for me. You guys are more awesome then you all know! This one was requested by Haruhibunny, who wanted a reaction from North on Jack and Rudolph. Hope you enjoyed!_


	15. Failure of Titanic Proportions

_Set before the movie. Requested by Gota._

It was not until he lost his staff that Aegir managed to pull him from the dying ship. There was one terrifying moment as the freezing water enclosed over his head that he knew just how much he had failed these people. He was in the darkness for what felt like hours, watching the mammoth in it's final moments. The lights upon the water flickering, the screams of thousands of people as they drowned or fell or froze, the sound of metal being torn by it's own weight as the Titanic split like a plastic toy. It would echo in Jack's mind for a very long time. The images and sounds and the feeling of such utter failure would haunt him in his dreams for years to come.

He shivered as he surfaced, the odd looking Aegir at his side. The ocean spirit handed him the staff that had gotten caught up in the water that brought Jack to the surface. He had a curious look to his fish-like face, as if he was not sure what to make of what had just happened.

Jack accepted the staff, conjuring a small patch of ice, just big enough to sit on. He was not confident enough to make anything bigger. He buried his face in his hands, unable to look at the people that had managed to survive and were now floundering in the black water.

The ice shifted and Jack scooted over so that Aegir could clamber on. The other spirit must have been just as drained as Jack.

"This isn't our fault, you know." Aegir had a decidedly English accent, but it was rather garbled. He sounded like someone had shoved a water bubble down his throat and he was desperately trying to talk around it. "If anything, we managed to _save_ a few people."

Jack peeked at him through his fingers and Aegir gave him a less than confident smile. The ocean spirit believed his own word about as much as Jack did. "How is this not our fault?" Jack silently applauded himself on not yelling, even though he wanted nothing more than to scream and cry and throw a blizzard around until he felt better.

Aegir shrugged his scaly shoulders. "Hel." Was his simple reply.

"What does she have to with this?" Jack dropped his hands in his lap, looking at the other in exasperation.

Aegir sent him a look. "She said they had it coming. I knew she didn't like that boat-"

"She doesn't like humans in general."

"Granted, but the point it, Jack, she manipulated us so that she can have her next meal."

Jack did not know much about the spirit of death. "She doesn't really eat them, does she?"

Aegir blinked his huge fish eyes. "You know, I'm not sure…" He waved his webbed hand, chasing that topic back for the previous one. "She manipulated us," he repeated, this time much more firm then the first time.

"How so?" Because a random iceberg _was_ his fault. It was Jack's job to bring winter and to try to protect people from it. At least, that was what he assumed.

"Well, think about it." The ocean spirit was far too calm, considering that they had just failed to save a thousand plus people. "You put that iceberg there months ago, and it was way up north."

"It was still my iceberg," he pointed out demurely.

"I know, and it was my bloody current," the fish snapped. "But I can't watch every single current, Jack. Just like you can't watch every single iceberg that goes floating off on it's own accord. I mean, where were you today, before I called you?"

"Alaska."

"Pre-_cisely!_" He leaned closer, the smell of salt water and something else sweet making Jack back off a tad. The fish got the motion and moved away. "Sorry, I don't talk to a whole lot of people." He shook his head, getting back on topic again. "I was in the Japanese sea today, before I felt this little tickle. Your iceberg wasn't even in my currents this morning."

Jack furrowed his brow, making a wild gesture at where it sat on the horizon like a clumsy giant. "Then how the heck did it get down here?" His voice cracked slightly as he was forced to look at the people in the water. They were starting to quiet.

"My point, chap. I think Hel put it here for a bit of fun, the little urchin."

"I didn't know she had control over your currents, or my ice, Aggy," he quipped sarcastically.

The fish snorted at the nickname. "You would be surprised at what she can do."

Jack moaned softly, curling into himself. "We should do something…"

"Like what? They can't _see_ us, Jack. We're as real to them as-as…" The fish frowned. "What do humans not believe in?"

Jack shrugged, not really in the mood.

Aegir felt the mood souring and opted to remain quiet. They both felt the moment that Hel arrived, sweeping across the water, collecting the souls as she went. It was an eerie light show, and it sent shivers down Jack's spine. He counted for a while, trying to see how many people he had failed. Aegir distracted him somewhere between eight and nine hundred.

"We should go. Hel is not the kind of girl you want to get mixed up with. We've done what we can, Jack."

"Then why do I feel like I could do more?"

Aegir rewarded him with a sad smile that spoke volumes of the guilt he was feeling. "I don't know." With a flip of his tail, Aegir was off the ice patch and beneath the water, gone into the darkness.

Jack stayed anyway, unable to abandon the people that were left.

_Afterword: Okay, first of all, I'm sorry I wasn't able to update yesterday. I was attacked by wild homework. Second, Gota and someone else I believe requested that I make a shot of the Titanic. Well, here you are! I'm sorry but I cannot blame Jack for it. I mean, those icebergs float around in that water for months, pushed around by the ocean currents. It was literally a case of wrong place wrong time. And do not get me started on the logic behind the Titanic's emergency procedures. I don't care if they thought it was 'unsinkable'. Aegir and Hel are both from Norse mythology, so I did not make them up. Aegir is the god of the ocean, and Hel is the goddess of death and the underworld. She is responsible for most catastrophes. I winged it on Aegir's appearance and have no idea how you say his name. I used Norse because Jack was originally Norse. I hope you all liked this!_


	16. Wayward Winter Sprites

_Set before the movie. This is not the '68 blizzard, for the record. This is about fifty years before._

Bunnymund was not a fan of cold. His warren was warm. When he was on the surface, it was usually in a warm place. Even when he visited North, he tried to hole-up inside the complex and not out in the snow. That last one usually resulted in finding the stray yeti or elf the next day in his warren, but it was better than trudging through snow. Well, maybe the elf was. The yetis were often a matter all their own.

Right now, for instance, was a prime example of why he _hated_ ice and snow. The little town of Burgess had been having rough winters for the last two hundred or so years. North had mentioned some sort of winter sprite that the Man in Moon had created, but he hadn't see hide or hair of the guy before.

The pooka was beginning to think that perhaps the little devil had been right under his nose this whole time. Not that he was really looking for him. He had better things to do. Like trying not to fall nose first on the ice while trying to collect a fair number of eggs he had dropped. He made the novice mistake of taking a _shortcut_ across a frozen lake when he slipped and the basket he was holding skittered away. The ice was deceivingly slick.

He could just_ hear_ that little bugger laughing somewhere in the trees around him. Or maybe he was the ice itself. He'd seen some of the elemental spirits turn themselves into whatever they had power over. It was a very convincing trick and something that frankly scared the willies out the pooka. He couldn't imagine being something like water or fire or ice. It was just _weird!_ He still stamped at the ice a little more ferociously than necessary, just in case.

"Careful, it could break," said a laughing voice off to his left.

He spun, nearly losing his balance in the process. "Oi! Get over here and help me."

"Hmm. Nope!" The voice laughed and Bunny finally spotted him. He was just a kid, sixteen at the oldest. He wore a blue vest over an ancient white blouse. His hair was as white as snow, his skin as pale as death. Even his eyes, so filled with laughter, had something cold in them. He was perched on a branch over the lake. He wasn't even sitting like normal people sit, but with his feet under him, literally crouched. He clenched a hooked staff in his left hand and he just watched like Bunny was some form of entertainment.

"You better hope I don't get off this lake anytime soon," he growled.

The boy grinned, standing. With one swift step out into the air, he flouted down to the ground. Bunny was reminded of a snowflake and he almost snorted, formulating a million insults in his mind.

The sprite had other ideas it seemed. He moved closer to Bunny with as much grace as an Olympic skater, picking up an egg on the way. He gave it to Bunny, and smiled like a child.

Bunny was dumbstruck. That look on any child could melt a Guardian. That was what they were created to do, and this sprite just sort of hit him in the side of the head with frying pan of innocence and child cuteness. It really was not fair how fast every insult he had poised fled him in an instance.

"Okay, kid. Now get me off this ice and I'll let you go." He pulled his gruff demeanor from where ever it had run off to in that instance.

"You're the Easter Bunny, aren't you?" He poised his staff so the crook was pointed at the ice. There was a soft light and suddenly Bunny had traction beneath his feet as the sprite created a pattern all the way to the shore. The sprite was not looking at him, sadness in his eyes.

"Sure am. E. Aster Bunnymund. And who are you?"

"Jack Frost."

Bunny snorted. "Fitting, mate."

The kid gave him a playful glare. "At least my name isn't Easter."

"My name isn't Easter," Bunny retorted automatically.

"Then what does the 'E' stand for?"

Bunny was silent for a moment, glaring at the kid. "Ernest." His voice sounded smaller than he had intended.

Jack straightened in an instant, an egg still in his hands. His face turned a little purple as he kept the laugh in. "Good name, Ernie."

The pooka growled and Jack was unable to keep the laugh in. He deposited the egg in Bunny's newly retrieved basket and fled some spaces away in case Bunny had the intent to lash out. Bunny had half a mind to throw a boomerang at him, but knew it was just a waste on energy. "Ya mind not making it so cold on Easter, mate. Some of us have work to do."

The grinned was toned down a bit. "I'll try, but I make no guarantees. Besides, what's wrong with a little snow?"

Oh, now this was a topic that Bunny was just _waiting_ to rant on. "First of all, it's cold. Spring is about rebirth. What kind of birthing is going to happen in winter? Winter is death." He glanced at the kid and nearly swallowed his words.

"Death…?" The sadness that was just below the surface was suddenly there and very prominent. Jack knew exactly what he was talking about, but that did not mean it felt any better when you heard it from someone else.

Bunny was not one to take his words back. Frost may look like a child, but he was aged beyond any human. "Well, yeah. Winter is stagnant. It doesn't change. Things that don't change are dead."

The boy waved a hand at him, dropping the last egg in. All that childish wonder and laughter that had made his pale eyes sparkle was gone. Now stood in front of him a very old winter sprite who was not happy. His eyes were cold and hard, a frown making blue lips a hard line. "You have your eggs, now get off my lake."

"I was just telling you the truth, kid." Even though Bunny knew that the truth could be more painful than any lie.

"Get off my lake." He said again, tapping his staff on the ice. With a foreboding rumble that jolted up Bunny's spine the sheet cracked between them.

"Yeesh! Touchy much, mate. You should get out more," he tried to appease the situation. North would not be happy with him messing with random seasonal sprites. It was usually bad luck. "You need to talk to more people."

It was like he had hit Jack. The kid flinched back, his eyes widening. "You-there-when-" he sputtered for a second, making a few wild gestured with his graceful limbs. He suddenly seemed to have gotten his mind over whatever had tripped him up. He set his jaw, and glared at Bunny. "I don't need anyone." And with that he turned and fled before Bunny could even begin to think of a reply.

_Afterword: Angst! It's going to eat all your faces! And you guys are so sweet! I love all the reviews I just got, seriously. They are so lovely. Does anyone know what the 'E' in Bunny's name stands for? I don't and I can't find it. So I've named him briefly. If I'm wrong, please tell me. Also, one last thing. Last chapter, Aegir is pronounced 'Ai' as in isle, the 'g' is more like an 'h', with a sharp 'I' and a rolled 'R'. The end result is something like "Aihir". Obviously, I was wrong by having Jack call him Aggy at one point. TheJennyFromIceland is the wonderful lady that helped me with that._


	17. Perfect Replicas

_Set after the movie. Part of the "Half Frozen Tears" arch._

She had a feeling that he liked the hustle and bustle of the Tooth Palace. She saw him from her perch in the Fairy Column, a bunch of the baby teeth fluttering to greet him. Jack was a bit of a hero among them. He was the one that had saved them from Pitch, really. Babytooth told her how he had opened their cages for them, even when they could not fly.

He came here every once in a while. She knew that the jungles were a bit too warm for him, but the moisture made it so that he could handle it for short bouts. She fluttered off from the column, greeting him in the air before he had a chance to land. His laugh warmed her, even as his embrace chilled her.

"It's good to see you, Jack." She backed off, knowing he was still a bit weird about the whole hugging thing. She supposed she would be too if she had spent the last three hundred years talking to herself.

"You too, Tooth. What's up, how's the teeth?"

"Oh you know." She giggled and fluffed her feathers for emphasis. "Safe and sound."

He nodded, a small smile coming to his face. She lost him then in a mob of her babyteeth. He was laughing as they dragged him down to the pond. Ever since they discovered that Jack could create flying ice ghost replicas of them that exploded into snow with a most entertaining pop, they had all begged him to come and do it for them. They found him so enchanting.

So did Tooth for that matter. He was like some long lost friend that had finally managed to pull himself from the snow. He was still so much a mystery. Bunny had told him of how Jack had different smiles. A smile for when he was happy, for when he was sad, for when he was scared, and then a smile just for them. Bunny had gotten it out of him, and she had seen it ever so briefly directed at Sandy as they made snow and sand flakes. She had never gotten it for herself and it irked her beyond reason. It was not some self-possessed reason that angered her and she knew it. It was because it was so small and _real_ that every time she saw it, all the ice and cold that seemed to surround him did not matter. She wanted that, even for an instance.

She joined him after a while, settling on the rocks. He had three in the air and there was a steady snowfall. It was colder down here than usual, so she knew that he was comfortable. One of the pale little creatures fluttered up to face, flapping translucent wings. It tumbled off to the left then swung back up into the air before exploding. She laughed as the snow fell from the sky, coming down to tickle her nose.

There was a small flock around him, but she caught him looking at her repeatedly, drawing something on the frost covered rock. This was much bigger than the little birds and required him to hop around in a circle, careful where he put his feet. He glanced at her again, caught her looking and grinned so wide that he could have blocked out the sun. She laughed at his expression, knowing this was his happy smile. She could not tell what he was creating now, and she did not want to get off the rock to find out, content to let it be a surprise. He stood back to admire his work, touching up a few lines here and there until he seemed satisfied. The babyteeth were excited about this one.

She knew he could create these creatures, but she had never known how. She realized with a surprise that his staff was propped up against the wall. He put his hands on the ice, curling his fingers. A look of concentrations curled his nose, a soft light glowing off the stone. It was slow to appear, as if hesitant or lazy. But the image slowly was peeled off the rock, with much effort on Jack's part.

With a soft sound of amazement, Tooth fluttered up into the air, coming nose to nose with her pale semi-translucent replica. The face was flawless and beautiful, each feather plainly seen. She looked at Jack and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. There it was, that little smile. It was content and peaceful and so incredibly beautiful. Tooth sank to the ground next to him as they both admired his work. Ice-Tooth fluttered up into the air in a graceful arch, unfolding her arms as if to greet the sun. She burst into snow.

Jack huffed at her side. "I can't keep them active for very long in this warmth. You should see what I can do in the snow. I would give Sandy a run for his money."

She laughed and threw her arms around him. He flinched but she knew it was just his automatic response. She remembered. She remembered why that smile looked so painfully familiar.

"You used to smile like that for your sister," she said when she finally withdrew.

Jack looked between pained and stunned. "W-what?"

"Remember when you ran off a few weeks ago? You were upset about something Bunny had done."

"I get upset about a lot of things Bunny does," Jack retorted without missing a beat.

"He doesn't know when to stop sometimes. That's just the way he is. You know he cares."

Jack nodded. "No, I don't remember."

She shrugged one dainty shoulder, leaning into his cold side as they both watched her babyteeth play in the falling snow. "We couldn't find you. We decided that maybe we could if we looked at your memories…" She left the rest, knowing that he got it just fine.

"You-" he choked off, leaning away to look at her. He had something akin to uncertainty in his eyes. "You mean you saw…"

"Not everything. Just a few things. We saw you save your sister." She made a gesture to his staff. "We saw how you saved her from such evil monsters." She smiled and nudged his shoulder.

His smile was sad now. She knew that he missed Pippa deeply. She missed her parents and all her friends that she had grown up with and had watched them get old and die. It was the tragedy of being immortal. You had to be careful to make friends with people that were just like you.

"What do you mean about my smile?"

"You seem to have a smile for every emotion, Jack." He began to protest but she hushed him. "But sometimes you just smile. You used to for your sister, and sometimes I see it too. I like it. It looks very good on you."

His faces turned a little purple, some of it reaching his ears. She laughed, pushing him over playfully. "W-what?" He stammered, trying to frown but it came out a half glare, half smile.

"Sometimes I just think you're so cute."

He scoffed playfully, moving back to lean against her. "At least my feathers down give me away all the time."

She baulked and he guffawed at the indignant noise she made. They spent the majority of the lazy afternoon together in the pond, staring at the water, and just talking. He eventually left, promising that he would try to smile more. That was all she could ever ask for.

_Afterword: I personally don't ship anybody (although the whole Jack/Bunny thing is rather intriguing), so yeah. I see Jack's relationships with the other Guardians as entirely platonic. Of course if it suits your fancy to see this as a romance, be my guest. I think I rather left it open ended. Okay, I managed to be fluffy with very little angst. I liked this chapter a lot actually. This is the last for tonight, guys, but class doesn't start till 11 (thank God) tomorrow so maybe I'll squeeze one in during the morning._


	18. Peppermints

_Set after the movie._

North was getting very good at finding the winter spirit. He usually managed to narrow it down to two places. If he wasn't in Burgess, look for a blizzard. That was how he let of steam (or ice) when Bunny got to him. Or really, when anything got to him.

North was also getting better at knowing when Jack was upset. In hindsight, a lot of thing upset him, but very little got to him. He was very good at smiling at his own aches and pains, and North had to commend the kid for that. He could learn a thing or two about grinning in the face of opposition.

Jack was at his lake. North had taken to calling it Jack's lake. He did not know what it was actually called, but it was where the boy had died, and where the spirit he had been born. He sat in the center of it, perched on his staff. It was fascinating when he did that, and North wondered how much magic was actually involved in that trick and how much was Jack's real balance. The kid was ridiculously graceful.

He knew he sounded like an elephant trudging through the bushes and foliage. It had been a few centuries since he had had any real practice with trudging through forests with any form of silence. As soon as he emerged, Jack turned his whole body to greet him, a halfhearted glare sharpening blue eyes.

"What do you- oh, North. Sorry, thought you were Bunny."

There was a brief moment when North hesitated on the edge of the ice, wondering if the ice was strong enough to hold someone of his size. He looked at Jack and knew that he would never let North fall.

Bunny had gotten a little irritated at the boy today after he had made snow fall in part of his warren. It had not caused too much trouble for the pooka, really. It had melted within hours, leaving the area a little soggy, and some of the eggs a little cold. Bunny was just indignant because it had been somewhat of a prank, but Jack did not have a place of his own for Bunny to fill with eggs. So he'd effectively told the winter spirit to grow up and stop living off of North. Jack had not taken it particularly well, leaving in a rush whilst saying something about a giant tower made of ice that no one would be allowed into. Tooth had been giving Bunny a thorough tongue lashing, and even Sandy was sending him angry looks when North left.

The Russian had absolutely no qualm with Jack living with him. In fact, he'd been the one to suggest it. Santoff Claussen was the home to an army of yetis and elves. One more person did not make much of a difference, no matter how much a trouble maker he was. Besides, Jack was not even there half the time. It was always winter somewhere, and Jack was a free spirit, not to be confined in one place.

He approached the boy. While Jack was perched on his staff, he was almost to his eye level. Not quite, but almost. The staff did not sway at all when Jack shifted his weight, so there had to have been some magic involved.

"You know that Bunny says things he does not mean."

Jack scoffed, turning away with an irritated look about him, hardening the lines of his shoulder. "I wasn't kidding," he said bitterly. He suddenly stood, making a wide sweeping motion with his hands. "This tower will reach the sky, and no one but me will ever be able to go inside because it'll be too cold."

North smiled just a little. Jack did this sometimes, set himself up to hear the things he wanted. It was how he made himself feel better. He had spent so much time talking to himself. With a shrug, North moved away. "Good luck."

Jack made a noise somewhere between a cry and a whine. It escaped his mouth in a moment of surprise. He sputtered for a second, but then fell silent. North looked back, laughter in his eyes. Jack looked after him with dejection coloring his blue eyes.

"Or you could come back to Santoff Claussen, have some cookies, and let Bunny apologize," North suggested, half turned to regard the boy.

Jack smirked, knowing that he was just beat. He jumped off the staff in one fluid motion, grabbing it with his left hand and fluttered on a breeze to walk beside North. "Peppermints are better than cookies," he commented off-hand.

_Afterword: Morning, folks. Another fluff. I'll get back to the angst soon. I realize that I make Bunny into a bit of a jerk, but that's because he kind of is. It's obvious that talking about Jack being invisible is a bit taboo, but he does it anyway. He really does care; he just doesn't know when he's crossed a line sometimes. I simply can't imagine a soft and kind Bunnymund. Ever. Unless Jack was dying or something._


	19. Golden Snowflakes

_Set before the movie._

Sandy almost laughed, watching the snow fall around him, mingling with his sand. It wasn't the regular snow you saw every day. No, this snow was very different. It was almost magical in all it's properties.

With one last wave of his hands, he released another stream of sand, then moved his cloud down closer to the ground. He was curious of this winter sprite that Bunny was always complaining about. Sandy had never been actively looking for him, but had searched briefly. The Frost child was harder to find than any of them would have guessed. Even Sandy, master of all dreams had a hard time finding him when the wind was always whisking him away to play.

As Sandy fluttered closer to the ground, he finally saw him. A child he was, not out of his teens when he became a sprite. He was balanced the on edges of a roof, reaching thin, pale fingers out to one of Sandy's golden streams that still fluttered through the air.

Sandy willed it just slightly closer, running over the boy's fingers and his face lit up in delight. A dolphin emerged, circling the grinning boy. He whooped and laughed, running forward as it flew away. He chased it to the end of the roof, stopping to pick up the staff that had been standing upright, as if held by magic.

He stood still, watching the streams of glowing sand, the light reflecting of his face, making him look even paler than he probably was. Blue eyes suddenly spotted Sandy nearby. Sandy watched in fascination as the boy's expression changed to wonder, then uncertainty. When Sandy waved at him, a brilliant smile split his face in half.

The boy fluttered up, the wind carrying like a blast of cold air. He settled on the sand cloud with Sandy, and the smaller spirit sent it back up to the heavens. His work was done here for the moment, and Sandy really should be moving on. But one look at the joy on the boy's face was enough to make him stay. This was why he loved his job, after all.

He settled in front of Jack, making a snowflake from the sand and pushing it toward him. Jack laughed, making one that was a little different. Sandy made another, feeling the challenge approach. Jack must have felt it too, because the next one was far more intricate than the last.

Sandy laughed silently, making another that outmatched Jack's. And Jack again returned with one that was even better. After a while, there was a gentle rain of them. Gold and white fell from the sky and the light show would impress even North. They glowed and caught the light of each other, giving it off and reflecting it all at the same time.

Sandy banished the sand cloud, floating on his own accord as Jack did the same to his left. They watched their work with a content satisfaction.

He formed a hat atop his head and bow, tipping it in _adieu_.

Jack frowned slightly, but he nodded in understanding. The silence between them had been comfortable until now. Now it just seemed painful. Sandy suddenly understood why Jack had been so eager to play this game with him. And the dream spirit understood. Bunny had his egg golems. Tooth, her army of fairy hummingbirds. North had the yetis and the elves. Many of the other immortals often stuck to their own groups of origins. The Norse gods stuck to their own, as did the Greek, and the Chinese. It was like an old gentleman's club, and Jack was too young to be allowed to be even acknowledged.

Sandy remember what it felt like to be invisible, he was in a similar place before the Man in the Moon chose him to be a Guardian. Sandy waved the sand around his hand, creating one more snowflake. He hardened it into a soft, golden stone before handing it to the boy. Jack took it gently.

When he looked up at the dream spirit, Sandy knew that he did not have mime anything out to the boy. He simply understood. _You are not alone, my friend._

Jack created one more snowflake himself, handing Sandy a perfect replica of the one he had just created. "That is the only one that will ever have a twin," he vowed softly, putting the gold snowflake into a pocket somewhere in the folds of his animal skin draped around his shoulders.

Centuries later, when Sandy went into Jack's room in Santoff Claussen he would see the perfect little gold snowflake sitting on a windowsill next to the mini-yeti and know that Jack had never forgotten that small show of kindness to a very lonely child.

_Afterword: A little bittersweet, but I did not have one with just Sandy yet. Next one is number 20 (omagawd! Already?!), and I have something a little special planned._


	20. Something Torn to be Mended

_Set before the movie. Requested by Kesomon._

_Set seconds after "In Shadows We Drown pt. 2"_

The sound North's sleigh made as it disappeared over the tops of the trees would have filled any child with joy. But Jack was not a child. Jack was nearly eighty years old and he was old enough to stand up to Pitch.

He was grateful to the huge Russian man for coming in and saving those children, but that was the first conversation Jack had had in a very long time. Not since that last day with Pippa. That had been nearly a decade ago. He wished he could figure out why she felt so painfully familiar. It did not matter that she was the first person in the whole world to address him, he knew her more than just the woman that always visited him every day. She was more than that; he just could not remember what that was.

He sighed, bringing his mind back to the present. He had to find his staff. His shoulder ached where Pitch had grabbed him, and he looked at it through the new tear his cape had received. He felt through the torn fabric, his hand coming away bloodied.

His heart stilled in his chest for an instance, staring at it. He'd never seen his own blood before. He'd been shot, stabbed, fell from trees, mauled by random animals, but he'd never in his life seen his own blood. He had not known it was possible. Everything passed right through him. He assumed he was dead or something.

But if he bled, then he was alive somehow. He never changed, never aged. But he was alive. The dark oil staining his fingers was proof of that. Something between elation and fear crept into his mind. He was alive, and that was good news. But if he bled, then did that mean he could die? If he could die, then how? He had been born under the water, in darkness and unable to breath. Would death be painful? Would he be reborn in ice again if he did? If not, where would his mind go? Heaven?

He shook his head. The worse thing about being alone was that you found yourself thinking way more than you should. Maybe he would find out someday. Maybe the moon would start talking to him again and tell him. For the moment, he wouldn't hold his breath, however.

"Staff, Jack," he told himself. "Find your staff." He turned, catching sight of the tear in his cape again. He would have to replace it. He doubted he could just take it to a tailor and have them fix it. That thought was funny for about three seconds before he was reminded just how quiet the forest was around him.

"What was I doing before all this?" He asked the tree to his left. It did not answer, so he answered for it. "You were making it snow on Cherry Valley." He deepened his voice to make it sound like there was a difference. Lightening it again as he carried the conversation back and forth. "Oh, that's right. I'm trying to freeze out those soldiers." He laughed, but it sounded terrible, shaken and hollow. Talking to the tree was not as fulfilling as it had been hours ago. "Thanks North!" He yelled angrily at the sky where the sleigh had disappeared.

It took him the better part of an hour to find his staff. It had gotten tangled in a bramble bush. Jack was not particularly careful on pulling it out, letting the thorns scratch at his skin. They hurt, of course, but it did not so much as irritate his skin. He frowned, examining his hands, the staff, and finally his shoulder again. It still ached, but it had stopped bleeding.

He made an angry sound at himself, feeling the silence around him weighing on him. The sky had already been clouded over, thanks to his work in Cherry Valley, but it had not been snowing here. Now it fell down in gentle waves, covering the ground in a new layer. The snow only seemed to sock him in.

Anger blindsided him. He was not sure what he was angry at, or why is boiled in him so hot that he was blind for a long moment. Maybe it was not anger, but just sadness. Jack could never tell the difference between those two emotions, not when he was like this. Sadness drained him of energy, while anger fueled a blizzard.

He lashed out with his staff, great droves of snow lifting off the ground in grand flurries. He screamed into the silence, one long loud shout until he fell into himself. He curled up into a ball on the ground, refusing to cry, refusing to make a noise. He was Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter. He did not need anybody.

He had not known he had fallen asleep until he was suddenly jolted away. He sat up, staring around the bright clearing blearily until he saw the man that had jolted him awake. A patriot from the look of his mussed brown coat. There was a rifle slung on his back, and blood staining the front his shirt.

"I bet you enjoyed killing that child, didn't you?" Jack asked him bitterly. The man passed right by him, but Jack was far too used to that to care much. The man was rather desperate, trudging through the forest as if on his last legs. A lot of people died these days, all in the name of liberty. Whatever that meant. Jack really wanted nothing to do with it.

He watched the man for a while, following him at a safe distance. He was used to being ignored by now, but that did not mean that the sensation of someone going through his body was any less pleasant. He trudged for a long time before finally he reached a small settlement nestled in the woods.

"If you so much as think about harming a hair on any child's head in here, I will personally turn you into the biggest icicle the world has ever seen," Jack threatened hollowly. The man would never hear him, but it made him feel better to say it anyway.

The man limped his way to one of the houses, a woman and child running out to catch him as he fell. He sputtered something along the lines of an ambush and being the only survivor. Jack wondered briefly how many had actually fled and froze to death. That thought bothered him for a fraction of a second before he remember how many innocence had died.

The woman he was talking to was a seamstress. She had bolts of cloth stacked along the window. Jack glanced at his shoulder again. That tear would only grow larger. He wished briefly that he knew how to mend clothing, but then again, this cape was rather old.

There was a little boy inside when Jack slipped through the door, about his age. He was in the bed by the fireplace, as quiet as death. Jack frowned, inching closer. He was afraid to get too close and give the boy a chill, but curiosity was always one of his weaknesses. It was going to get him into serious trouble one day.

The poor child was pale, his breath coming in faint wheezes. A splash of red lumps across his face was enough to tell Jack all he needed. This child was dying of smallpox. Another victim to add to the growing list. He moved away, unable to do anything for the child, no matter how much he wanted to. There was a trunk in the far corner.

He discarded his cape on the dirt floor. It hit the ground with a wet slab and Jack looked down at it in surprise. As soon as the cape had come off, the frost had begun to melt in the warm house. Amusement curled itself in Jack's chest and he laughed lightly. It was not particularly funny, but the fact that it had surprised him was. Of course, Jack found almost everything funny, because if he was too busy laughing at everything, then maybe those bad feeling would stay away a little longer.

Jack rifled through the trunk for a short moment before finally pulling a dark long coat from it. It looked about his size, large enough to hide in. It wasn't like Jack really needed a coat. He could probably go with just the white blouse but there was something appealing in having something to bundle up in when he was feeling lonely. Or rather, more lonely than usual.

He wrapped it around his shoulders, wincing as he jostled the injury, and pulled his arms through the sleeves. Okay, so it was a little big. He looked down at his feet, seemingly dwarfed in the dark folds.

The boy in the bed laughed and Jack spun in surprise. He looked straight at Jack, eyeing the coat on his shoulders. "It's too big for you," he said.

Jack swallowed his surprise. Glancing down at his old cape, he realized it must have woken the boy when he dropped it. How he was seeing the winter spirit was a question all it's own, but Jack was too happy to really care. He felt the grin tickle his lips before he could stop it. "Is it yours?"

The boy nodded weakly. "It used to fit me. I don't know if I'll ever need it, though," he replied sadly.

Jack frowned. He hated this war and all this death. He hated especially all the children that had to die. If he could have, he would have gone to North to convince him to let every child in the world live in his workshop. Not that the Russian would ever listen to little old Jack Frost, but the thought was nice.

He kept his distance from the boy, not wanting to chill him. Even in the few moments it had been on his shoulders, the heavy fabric was beginning to frost with beautiful patterns. Jack was not sure what to say, so the boy spoke for him. "You can have it."

Jack nodded, pulling on the sleeve to run the fabric under his fingers. It was worn in a few places, but sturdy and comfortable. "Thank you."

"Take good care of it." He was asleep again before Jack could reply.

Still frowning, Jack retrieved his golden snowflake from his cape and left the home, and the sick boy. He never really knew what happened to him, but some part of him wanted to believe he got better and regretted giving Jack his coat.

* * *

The one thing that was always worse than the silence was that hollow feeling when someone passed through him. He hated it more than anything. But curiosity was really going to be the death of him.

"Do you feel a draft?" A woman had caught his attention. She had a pretty painted face, fluttering behind an ornate fan. She was dressed in the finest things, and had the dullest smile. But she had the sharpest grey eyes that Jack had ever seen. Not to mention the tall, slim man at her shoulder. They were a fascinating pair, considering that the squat little woman was the brother and the tall man was the sister.

Jack had been following them for the last three days. He'd been rather busy giving England and France a good snow when he'd seen a mysterious young man in a mask steal into a window of a grand estate.

He'd followed him, just to find out why he was wearing a mask. It turned out that most of their friends in higher society believed them to be people completely different than how they actually were. Jack wanted to stick around to see if they ever got caught, but the parties they always went to were actually really annoying. Not only were they very dull, but 'Kate' and 'Peter' were very good and being boring.

He knew he was invisible. Being in a room of dancing people and having half of them pass right through him was testament enough. That, however, did not mean that Jack did not feel very much ragged in his torn and ancient coat. The buttons on the cuffs had long ago fallen away and there was a sizable tear in the right shoulder.

Officially bored, Jack left the party. He remembered why he hated seeing these events. No matter how warm and joyous the atmosphere, Jack was not a part of it and never would be. He stole one of the fine coats on his way out, just to spite 'Peter'.

* * *

Jack was not usually into fashion, but the vest in the shop window was really enticing. It was ice blue, and that was that. He fancied he would look nice in it. Not that anyone would see him in a fancy vest, but the thought was amusing.

He'd lost Peter's coat a week prior, setting it on a gate so that he could wash his arms and face. When he turned back, it was gone. He had been miffed for about ten minutes, but forgave whatever soul had stolen. It must have been a very desperate man to steal a soggy, sixty year old coat.

So now he stood in front of a shop window on a snowy day, staring at an ice blue vest that he knew would look cool. He looked down briefly at his own blouse. It was well over a hundred years old, a little bloody on the shoulder, a bit dirty and yellowed, but it still held fine. He had lost the hide vest he'd been born with a while ago. He did not even remember how.

He entertained the idea of stealing it, but decided against it in the end. He'd find a new coat eventually.

He did not have to wait long. Kids were getting more and more fanciful with their snowmen, putting clothes on them and such. It was dark before he spotted it, one lone snowman in the yard of a house with three children. He had watched as they prayed for their father, fighting in some war in Europe, and finally crawled into bed. They were good kids. They obeyed their mother and she in turn loved them with everything.

Happy, but also a little sad, Jack finally left their window and floated down to the ground. He tapped his staff on the porch railing, careful not to frost the ground. He did not one the mother to slip when she left for work in the morning. He'd been very careful about that.

He spotted the snowman and laughed aloud. It wore a vest, scarf, and excellent top hat. It wasn't the same blue vest that he had seen earlier but was the same design. Certainly better than just his now-yellowed blouse. He took it off the snowman, apologizing sincerely for being so rude, and pulled it on himself. It was a little big, but then again, Jack was very thin. He took the scarf, wrapping it around his neck with a flourish of movement. Satisfied, he left the hat, tipping an imaginary one to the snowman before picking his staff back up and taking to the sky. It wasn't a coat, but the scarf was certainly fun.

* * *

He gave the scarf to an old man. The vest had already been old when he stole it. Fifteen years and it was just about at the end of it's life. That did not matter. Jack was ready to go back to a coat he could properly hide in. It was hard to hide in a scarf. He'd seen some people walking around with hooded jackets. Now that was cool.

He was not to inclined to steal any clothing this time around. The Depression was seriously depressing, and nobody had the money to replace the coats he stole. He thought about stealing from some rich idiot but those types of people were few and far between.

The bitter weather reflected his mood and he scowled briefly at himself. There was a line of people waiting for soup and the wind was kicking up small flurries of snow. He shooed it off, scolding it. The last thing these poor people needed was to get sick.

He eventually did find a coat. It was heavy and ragged, and had been sewn back together a few times. It matched his blouse almost laughingly well. He found it in a shop, a lonely ragged little coat. It had no hood, but Jack was okay with that. It was too highly priced and he did not feel as bad stealing it from the stuffy shop keeper.

Besides, he thought it fit him well. Not just physically. Old and worn, and so very lonely. He didn't expend as much energy on that winter then he usually did. He told himself he was just tired, but really he pitied the people that froze because there did not seem to be an ounce of human kindness left in the world.

* * *

It was blue, and had a hood, and it was free. No one wanted it, though, because it did not have all the fancy designs that all the other hoodies had. Thrift shops, the humans called them. A place were hand-me-downs went to get a new life. Jack briefly thought of a thrift shop for spirits and fancied that the Guardians would buy him if shined up enough. It was funny for about twenty seconds, then he pushed it away.

He was Jack Frost, nearly three hundred years old. He'd been ignored by North, heckled by Ernie the Easter Bunny, and just plain written off by every other spirit. Except Aegir; he was always nice to Jack.

He'd gotten so used to being alone that it did not ache anymore. He refused to let it be any larger than a hollow numbness that echoed in his chest every now and then. He did not need anybody, not now and not ever. He had his fun, and refused to be confined by the idiosyncrasies of things like companionship.

But seriously, he would like a hood. He'd wanted one for a while, but he'd never been so lucky. The blue hoodie was worn, faded on the shoulders a little. But it was in good condition. And it was his favorite color.

He peeked over the top of the clothes rack, making sure no one saw his floating hoodie. It was rather empty today. Far too cold to go outside. The people running the shop refused to stay closed and Jack had to commend them for their stubbornness.

He replaced the hoodie with his worn jacket. He pulled it over his head, liking the way his frosted patterns made the shoulders look less faded. With a giddy little laugh he pulled the hood up and looked at himself in the mirror nearby. He did a little spin, enjoying the way it looked on him.

The hoodie made him look less skinny and bony and more like a normal teenager. It certainly made him look more modern, that was for sure. Even with his pants, tied to his waist and legs with baling twine, did not look as old. He grinned at his reflection. The hood hid his eyes in shadows, making his grin look positively evil. There was a single white tuft of his bangs that peaked out, but that okay. The hood hid him better than any of the other coats and jackets he had had.

With one last little laugh, he picked up his staff, retrieved his gold snowflake, and left the thrift shop. He had mischief to create, after all.

_Afterword: Surprise! Have a longer chapter than usual. This was an excellent request by Kesomon, who asked for a 'five times Jack had to replace his clothes' type thing. I meant to get this out yesterday but when I got home from school I passed out for three hours instead of writing. Then I almost lost the first half of this chapter when my computer crashed and it took me a while to find it because autosave is stupid sometimes. And then editing took far longer than it should have._

_Okay, Headcannon time: Immortals can only be harmed and killed by other immortals. Animals can attack them and hurt them, but they can't make immortals bleed. Humans can try, but it's usually to the same effect, and only if they believe in them, obviously._

_Jack is super skinny because he was born in colonial times and he obviously lived on a settlement in the middle of nowhere. A lot of kids died out there because there was not enough food, especially in the winter. He's so skinny, he almost ashamed of it. That's why he likes wearing the hoodie. It's not like he really needs it, he just wants something to hide in. He still has his white blouse thing underneath it. Also, his favorite color is blue._

_That's it, I think. The first one takes place in the American Revolutionary war. About 1778. The second is mid-1800, give or take. The third is early 1900, about World War fourth is obviously in the Depression. The fifth is the early 1990's._

_I'm almost done with this stupid a/n, I swear. Thank you to all of you for reviewing and the favorites. It really makes my day so much brighter. I love all of you! Now I gotta start thinking of what I want to do for number thirty._

_Edit: I fixed where fanfiction deleted my line breaks. Sorry guys, didn't know that would happen._


	21. Catching a Trickster

_Set during the movie._

"Jack Frost?!" Bunnymund's voice could be heard all the way in the toy shop but he could really care less. "Jack Frost doesn't care about children. All he does is freeze water pipes and mess with my egg hunts," he yelled, even as Tooth and Sandy exchanged amused glances and North refused to look away from the hologram over the crystal. "He nothing but a lazy, selfish-"

"Guardian," North interrupted, a smile hiding within his beard.

Buuny was really not happy about this. Of all people, it just had to be the one person he would rather bury in his warren and never let out. Ever. "Jack Frost is many things." Like annoying, and irritating, and selfish, and… "But he is _not_ a Guardian. I mean, I bet he off somewhere freezing someone's tongue to the roof of their mouth or whatever."

North waved his massive hand, irritation and contemplation coming over his face. "No, he is very powerful spirit. He can help us to defeat Pitch."

"Then what, we invite him to the club? Come on, North. He's been nothing but trouble. I've worked hard to try to convince him to leave me alone. And what, you want me to invite him for tea and cookies?" Bunny laughed humorlessly. "How are we even going to catch him?"

"Catch him?" Tooth fluttered into the conversation, the feathers on her head puffed in her stress. "Why would we have to catch him?"

"He's a nature spirit, Tooth, he goes where the wind takes him. Except in his case, we mean that literally."

"I know that," she defended against his condescending tone. "But why would we have to catch him? What is he, a bird? No, we talk to him like civilized people should."

Bunny laughed again. "Ha, no." He walked past her, over to the crystal to glare at it. "He's flightier than one of your hummingbirds. Besides, the last time I tried to get anywhere near him this close to Easter, he froze my feet to the floor and ran off."

Sandy laughed silently at that one, remembering the occasion vividly seeing as he was the one that had to come and rescue the pooka.

North eyed his long eared friend. "Why would he run from you?"

"I, uh, tried to- he tried- Oh, I just wanted to knock him out of the game for a few days so that I could have a peaceful Easter for once. Little bugger smarter and faster than he lets on and got away from me. He's been suspicious of me ever since."

"Don't blame him," North snorted.

There was silence for a long time between them. They all had not had much experience with the winter spirit, Tooth having not even met him in person before. She watched her fellow Guardians in silence, knowing that bringing Jack to Santoff Claussen would be a puzzle.

"Maybe if we appeal to his nature, he'll be willing to listen," she suggested. She half expected Bunny to shoot her idea out of the sky before it even had a chance to fly, but he remained silent. Sandy made a question mark over his head to indicate his confusion. "Maybe we could bribe him with something. What does he like?"

"Cold, snowy places and making me miserable," Bunny replied bitterly.

"You really do not like him?" North asked the Pooka, amusement in his eyes.

"No," was the simple reply.

"Okay, so he's a trickster. What do tricksters like?" Tooth asked, already knowing the answer.

Bunny shrugged. "I don't know, adventure?"

"Toys?" North supplied.

Sandy shook his head, waving his arms. The others had moved on, leaving Sandy behind. With a puff, he dug through his hair until he touched something cold and never melting. He pulled the ancient snowflake out and waved it around.

Tooth saw it, gasping as the way it glowed with whatever residual energy that kept it from melting away. Sandy made more snowflake, and two figures talking to each other.

"Companionship," Tooth caught on. "He wants a friend."

The pooka laughed. "We don't have time to make friends with him, Tooth."

"That can happen later," North replied. "It is matter of _finding_ him that is problem."

Sandy waved his hand again, creating another snowflake and making the motion of following it.

"Okay, so Sandy can find him. How are we going to get him here?" Bunny asked. "Shove him in a sack?"

North's booming laughter echoed over the globe room. "That is exactly what we do! Bunny will lead him into dark ally and then you will shove him in sack and throw his through a portal."

Bunny snorted, obviously liking this plan. "Two problems, mate. If I'm leading, how am I going to get him into the bloody sack? And how am I going to even get him into an ally?"

"Take my yetis, they will help. And if he is trickster, then he is very curious, no? Be mysterious, make it game. He is bound to follow you."

"Okay, but why do I have to do it?"

North smirked. "If you think you are not fast enough for Jack Frost, then I can ask Tooth."

Tooth smiled as Bunny sputtered indignantly. "I am to fast enough for that little twit. I just don't see why I have to do the grunt work."

"No grunt work," North encouraged. "Fred and George will do grunt work. You just have to draw him in."

Right, because curiosity was really going to be the death of Jack Frost one day.

_Afterword: Okay, I need a beta. Seriously, I need someone who is going to look at my stuff and tell it's good or needs to be buried. A few criteria: you need to be okay with getting swamped because I am a quick person. You need to be a grammar nazi. And lastly, you need to be able to catch timeline and logic problems. The benefit (or curse) is that you'll be privy to my ranting about this story in great detail. PM me if you want the job._


	22. Elusive

_Set before the movie. Requested by raven2547._

The yetis were all up in a tiff. Something had covered the upper floors in black ice, and three elves had ended up in the infirmary after being crushed by falling yetis. A few others had gotten launched off the top balconies. Thankfully, no one had died yet.

Phil was nowhere to be found, and North was _not_ happy. He was up on the top floor, surrounded by suspiciously silent yetis, surveying the damage.

"What happened? Did the heaters break?" The air felt fine, and the ice was already beginning to melt. There were a few puddles already. No one was allowed through here until all the ice had melted, just to be safe.

The yeti to his left (Ben was his name?) said something nearly unintelligible. Something about Phil catching a boy up here. North furrowed his brows. What was a boy doing up here? What was a boy doing anywhere near Santoff Claussen to begin with.

"Where did Phil go?"

And suddenly, as if summoned like Puck himself, Phil was there. He looked a little wind-tossed, snow in his fur, and his beard looking a little untamed. "Glawbaw," he greeted.

"What happened?" North asked. His yetish was not very good, but Phil told him effectively that a boy with ice-powers or something to that effect, had gotten in and wreaked havoc all around the upper floors. He pulled up some of the fur over his rump to show a very unwilling North a sizable bruise forming on the skin beneath.

"How did he get here?"

Phil said something that pertained to the wind.

"So, what? He can fly? On wind?"

Phil nodded solemnly.

North paused as he let that thought sink in for a minute. His laughter a moment later echoed all over the workshop. He waved his hand at the destruction in the hall, turning away and walking back down into the workshop in general. Phil followed him obediently. "Random children do not fly on wind, Phil. Besides, the only ones tree golems do not attack are the other Guardians. You are saying that this boy, who can fly on wind, got past the tree golems, the borealis defenses, and-and got _in_ the complex?" The idea was completely laughable.

Phil never laughed, nor made a noise that could possibly pertain to him finding any humor in this situation. He was stony for so long that North finally looked back at him.

"You're not making fun, are you?"

Phil shook his head and North frowned.

"But the only ones that can ride winds are seasonal spirits. And even then, none of them are very good at it."

Phil was making wild gestures with his arms, starting as soon and North had mentioned 'seasonal'. North watched him for a moment, translating the garbled yetish to the best of his abilities.

"You are saying that wind and boy get along?" Now that was even more laughable. The wind got along with nobody. Phil was nodding vigorously, a testament that he was as stumped by this turn of events as North.

"How many times has he tried to get in?"

Phil held up three claws.

"This is third time?"

Phil shook his head, holding up a fourth.

"Four? Why have I not heard of this?"

Phil shook his head, saying something that was lost on North.

"It does not matter," he struck his arm out in a cutting motion to shut the yeti up. "Next time it happens, I want to talk to him personally."

Of course, Phil would give him a million excuses over the next three centuries on how the elusive boy kept getting away. But deep down, North knew that Phil was really letting him go. The Russian would never be sure if that angered him or not.

_Afterword: Okay, I have chosen a beta. Lovely Hatsu Yukiya, who has excellent writings of her own, helped bring this chapter to light. Thank you to everyone who volunteered. The Fred and George reference was a complete accident. I don't know why I didn't see it when I was writing. I've actually named all the yetis after my dogs so far, including Ben. Sorry, HP fans, but that seriously was not the intention. I laughed pretty hard when someone pointed it out, however._


	23. Deeds Never Forgotten

_Set during the movie._

He could not stop hearing it. It echoed in his head over and over again. It was like the sound a bell made when it was finally crushed beneath a terrible weight. It was painful and sad and it tore at Jack's heart.

Because it was his fault. He had failed. And now Sandy was dead.

The bells had stopped ringing a while ago, and now Santoff Claussen seemed to be blanketed in a terrible, suffocating silence. Jack had stayed by his window. He was not allowed to be a part of the procession, or the mourning. He was not a Guardian, and he never would be. He was not a part of them, he was alone. He'd always been alone, but never before had it seemed so painful.

In one hand was his golden snowflake, and the other made frosted silhouettes of the Sandman upon the glass. He clenched his treasure so hard his hands trembled. He refused to let go, refused to forgive himself. He would never, ever forget what Sandy had done for him, all those lifetimes ago. And he would never forget how he never got to say so much as a _thank you _in return.

North, for such a large man, was very quiet. He came into the room almost without Jack even noticing him. The winter spirit tried to cover his startle with a shifting of movement. He painted another silhouette on the window as the last one melted.

North came and sat next to him on the bench and was quiet for a long time. Jack hated this silence more than any other. He wanted to look at North, wanted to tell him to go away, or to have North tell him to leave. But he couldn't. He just watched as the silhouette melted like all the others before it, too ashamed to look at North, and too afraid to leave.

"Are you alright?"

North was asking him? If he should be asking anyone, it was Tooth, or Bunny. They had both taken this very hard. He knew North had as well, but the huge Russian seemed to be the strongest. He had his mind on other things. He knew that there was more work to be done. Jack respected him deeply for that.

"I just wish I could have _done_ something," he told him the truth. North deserved nothing less.

North looked honestly surprised. "You did do something. You stood up to Pitch. You saved us, Jack."

"But Sandy-"

"Would be _proud._"

Jack shook his head, making a disgusted noise. He dropped the snowflake by his foot, no longer worthy to even hold such a beautiful gift. He was happy when North took it gently, examining it in the light from the window. Even in the grey, snowy light, the snowflake seemed to have a glow all it's own. North was much more worthy of the last remnant of the fallen Guardian.

North recognized it for what it was. "Where did you get this?"

Jack shrugged. "I must have been forty years old." He laughed a little as he remembered how absolutely awestruck he had been as Sandy descended toward him. "I guess he saw me trying to touch his sand streams. They were so beautiful, I couldn't help it. He saw me-" He cut himself off, feeling that pain come bubbling to the surface. He rested his head on his knees, hearing that terrible sound of one power snuffing another echoed in his head again.

"Jack?" North gently prodded him, wanting him to continue.

"I had never-no one had ever acknowledged me before. I thought I didn't exist. I was a ghost. But there was Sandy. He looked at me and I knew for the first time that I was _real_." He laughed again, but it sounded bitter and hollow and he swallowed it quickly. "He invited me up to his cloud. We made it snow together."

There was silence again and Jack renewed the silhouette. "But he eventually had to leave," Jack continued. "I didn't want him to leave, and he knew that. So he made me one more snowflake. I will never forget that. When I thought that no one could ever touch me, that I could never talk to another soul, he was there. He was so eager to make me feel better. Me, a complete stranger."

North looked down at the snowflake in his palm, turning it over and over in his hands. It was cold and heavy, but it seemed to glow so brightly. He took one of Jack's hands into his own, placing the snowflake in the boy's palm.

"Sandy was the greatest of all of us. He was the strongest and the kindest." He closed the boy's pale, frigid fingers around the snowflake and held them there for a long moment. "We will never be the same without him."

Suddenly, North was up on his feet, dragging Jack with him. "But he would not have liked us sitting here mourning. He would have wanted us out there, beating Pitch."

Half of Jack's face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, but North saw the way his lips hardened into a line. He looked down at the snowflake in his hands. He gripped it harder, holding it close to his chest. "I'll never forget," North heard him whisper. Jack looked up at North, sharp blue eyes meeting his. "Let's defeat Pitch, then."

North laughed, feeling hope bubble in his chest again. He slapped the boy's shoulders, pulling him into a half hug. They could do it. They could defeat Pitch. They would not let their fallen brother down.

_Afterword: Okay, I need to make this straight. Jack meets them in this order: Sandy (about forty years old), North (forty years later), and Bunny (early 1900's), and finally Tooth (during the movie). But they had __**heard**__ of him a long while before that. Jack had been giving Bunny trouble since the beginning, reaching a pinnacle 1968. North had heard of him from Man in the Moon, who tells him because the Guardians should know about other spirits being randomly born. Especially big ones like winter spirits. Sandy and Tooth hear about him from Bunny and North. Bunny gets most of his details from North up until he finally meets Jack. That's my headcannon, at least._

_I wanted North and Jack's conversation at this point to be a little more about Sandy than Jack. That irked me a little in the movie. Sandy just died and they go right back to talking about Jack. Added the snowflake because I can! So I guess this is slightly AU._


	24. Bagging a Trickster

_Set during the movie. Follow up of "Catching a Trickster". Requested by Oomara13_

Sandy found him in route to the east coast United States from Moscow when he sent Bunny after him. Fred and George would meet up with him after dark. It was Bunny's job to make sure the winter spirit didn't leave the little town.

Of course, Bunny got there before he did, but he didn't have to wait long. He felt the moment the wind picked up, dropping the white-haired devil down on the town with a flurry of snow and cold air. Frost did not even touch the ground, descending with a holler of joy. He spun as if a snowflake himself and the wind never let him fall. Bunny could not even begin to imagine how the boy did not get completely disoriented. Frost seemed perfectly fine, being bounced around between the buildings. He knew how to tilt and spin, when and where to plant his feet. He was completely at home with the wind.

He frosted windows, brought down snow and wind, and refroze the lake again. The last part, Bunny was almost grateful for. The ice had not looked sturdy, but he hoped that Frost was at least responsible enough to not allow a child to fall through his ice.

Frost spent the morning instigating a snowball fight, and then taking a kid on a wild sledding ride. Bunny would have been curious as to how none of the kids seemed in the slightest awestruck with the flying boy, but that question was answered. After everything that happened, the boy still walked right through him.

The sour look that crossed Frost's face reflected the sudden cold that seemed to freeze the air. Bunny lost him in the upper atmosphere after that. Any remnant of pity Bunny felt was replaced by sharp irritation.

He did not come down again until the sun had long set on the little town. It took Bunny a while to find him, but he finally spotted him spying on the kid that he had taken sledding. Bunny was not able to catch what he was listening in on, but it was not important.

Watching Frost all day had taught the pooka one thing for sure. The kid was graceful and fast. Not as fast as him, mind you, but still a challenge if he was not careful. Bunny slunk closer, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Fred and George were already in position. It was just a matter of catching Frost when he was not looking.

The kid finished talking to himself, or maybe it was the Man in the Moon, Bunny could not tell. He drifted off on the wind, landing on his tiptoes on an electric line. Upon contact, ice grew and expanding. His staff tapped on the parallel line, sparking electricity before icing over. The kid still had that sour look on his face.

Bunny was forced to back off as Sandy made his rounds, the dream sand chased away some of the shadows that Bunny had been employing. He heard the winter spirit laugh, chasing a stream along the lines. Running his fingers through the golden sand, a dolphin materialized. Like a child with a new toy, Jack chased the sea creature for a time before he lost it in the window of another child. The sour expression was gone, and Frost almost looked content.

Bunny chose that moment to strike. He leapt from the roof he'd been hiding on, flying past the ice child. He passed through what felt like a cloud of frigid that was following the boy, but it was worth it. He got the answering yell of surprise he was looking for.

Jack had seen him. More importantly, he recognized him as another spirit. Curiosity killed the cat. Now the challenge was staying out of Frost's sights, ahead of him, but still teasing enough to lead the boy into the trap.

Jack followed alright. None too quietly, at that. Bunny could hear car alarms going off behind him. Jack was staying close to the ground, obviously not wanting to take off. He could feel the wind picking up behind him as the kid caught up.

He pushed himself faster, gaining some distance and losing Jack. The boy stopped in a tree, so he knocked down some trash cans, passing under a light for a fraction of a second. It was enough. Jack finally touched down on the wet cement, crooked staff held at the ready. He scanned the ally, sharp eyes squinting into the darkness.

Bunny pushed himself against the wall while Jack was faced away. He could not see Fred or George but he knew they were here somewhere.

"Hello, mate."

Jack spun, pointing the staff at him. For a second, Bunny was afraid he would end up frozen to the ground again. But it didn't happen.

Bunny stepped into the light of the street lamp, but he knew that his ears had given him away. "Been a long time. Blizzard of '68, I believe. Easter Sunday, wasn't it?" He'd seen the kid after that particularly bad day, but that had been the last instance that they had actually talked.

Jack's face brightened and he relaxed his staff, leaning on it casually. His face was the perfect image of child innocence but his eyes were still wary, and he really could not keep the mischief out of his smile. "Bunny," he greeted cheerfully. "You're not still mad about _that_, are ya?"

"Yes," he growled simply. Truthfully, he was more mad about being frozen to the ground, but the blizzard was what really started it. He looked down casually at his boomerang. "But this is about something else."

Jack made a noise of confusion, his brow furrowing.

"Fellas," Bunny called.

He held back a laugh as Jack was lifted clear off the ground by the back of his hoodie, yelling insults and _demanding_ to be put down. That child innocence was gone in a flash, and there thrashed a very upset spirit that did not take kindly to being manhandled. He was stuffed into the red Christmas sack by George. Fred picked up the fallen staff, not willing to put it in the sack with the boy and risk them all becoming icicles.

The snow globe was thrown, and Fred motioned for him to go first.

"Not on your nelly," he laughed. He'd much rather make it back to the pole first and see Jack's rough landing in person. So with further ado, he opened a rabbit hole. The last thing he saw was Fred throwing the flimsy staff through first, and his brother throwing the sack second.

_Afterword: Even though it was not my initial intention, I think I will just make Fred and George twin yetis. Because I can._


	25. Riding Untamable Winds

_Set before the movie. Requested by Chronic._

The wind was his first friend. It was the first to whisper to him when the Moon was silent and no one looked at him no matter how loud he yelled. The wind was always there. It was there at night, during the day, when there were clouds, or when he wanted nothing but to curl up and go to sleep and never wake up.

The wind always wanted him to play. The wind forced him to smile when he wanted to cry. The wind taught him that he could have fun when he was alone, because he wasn't really. The wind would never leave him.

The first time, only moments after his birth, it had lifted him up into the sky. Filled with so much elation and joy, it ruffled his hair and clothes and beckoned him to play. That had been before Jack knew how to talk to it.

He would learn that later. His discovery that no matter what he did, no one could see him broke his heart. Life was not as fun when you had no one to share it with.

But that was when the wind told him that he was not alone. It whispered in his ears, begging him to come play. It comforted him and chased away the sadness. Jack and wind had become friends. The wind taught him how to fly and Jack let himself be tossed like the snowflakes he created.

Neither was at the mercy of the other, but neither did they control. It was perfect, it was harmonious. And the wind was Jack's alone. Sure, it let the summer spirits ride on its back every now and then, but it did not play with them like it did with Jack. The wind had a favorite.

No one could understand why. Why was it that the great winds, that many had tried to tame and failed so utterly and miserably, would let a single young winter spirit ride upon it's currents? No one would know, not ever. Not even Jack himself knew.

Jack only knew that no matter what happened, the wind was always there. It never got jealous. It was never angry. It would never fear Jack, or hate him. It was just there, a loyal friend. His first, and for a long time, his only.

Jack knew the other Guardians did not understand why the winds loved him so deeply, and he knew that they never would. He was okay with that. No one had to understand. The wind was his, and he was the wind's. That was the way it had always been, and he hoped that it would never change.

_Afterword: Finally, I was able to do this one. This is the shortest one yet because it isn't telling a mini-story for once._


	26. Mannequin Manhunt

_Set a year after the movie. Requested by Wings of Indigo._

The only thing that was harder than creating a lot of snowstorms in a lot of places, was making sure there was not any snow at all. You would not think so, but all things considered, Jack felt like a water balloon stretched to the breaking point. It hurt a little, he was going to admit that. It stung his chest and made his head hurt. It made his face feel itchy and his palms always felt like they were melting. But it was going to be worth it. Seeing Bunny's alarm at the whole incident was going to make all of this discomfort worth it.

He discovered about two hundred years ago that his powers worked on a current. The wind helped, so did Aegir with his ocean patterns. He was like a hose, he supposed. The ice and snow had to go somewhere, so when he tried to plug it up, it would build to bursting. The resulting excess of energy had almost created an ice age.

That was before he had really learned how to concentrate his powers on one thing. In the end, Jack was not sure if Bunny was going to hate him, or love him. The pooka was not even in his warren, but up at the Pole, celebrating the post Easter relief. The egg golems that sat guard had gotten used to Jack's presence and did not even glance in his direction when he dropped down one of the tunnels.

He'd been saving up his power for two days. Today was the day after Easter, so Bunny had gotten a clear day, all day, everywhere. Jack himself had been scarce, not wanting the other Guardians to see how much such a feat was actually painful, in case they asked him to do it again for them. He did not want them to hesitate to ask for something like that. He had once last thing for Bunnymund, however.

Of course, as Jack set to work, the egg golems got out of their guard patterns to come see what the fuss was all about. He was sure that if they could, they would be laughing. None of them turned their hostile faces on him, but he kept a wary eye on them, regardless. They could very easy bumble into his work and destroy some of it.

He finished the main display, which took him the majority of the time. He knew that Bunny would be getting back soon, and the other Guardians would be starting to get worried. Two days without storms and no Jack Frost. It was funny how they had started treating him like he was the baby of the family. If he was doing something strange, and they did not know where he was, they would send out the 'find Jack Frost' search committee and drag him back to the Pole. The first time it had happened, it ruined what would have been a great prank involving some elves and scarecrows. The elves had been too afraid to follow him on random excursion after that, just in case. Jack had been smarter about it, either by being harder to find (thank the wind for its excellent hiding places), or making sure that no stranger behavior than usual lead up to it. Of course the latter was harder because then he had to set a standard for strange behavior and make sure that they all saw it.

The extra attention might have annoyed him at one point or another, but in the end, it just made him feel safer. After all, it had saved him from being melted in a desert, and saved him from his usually miserable summer fever when the groundhog decided to lie to him (which he did surprisingly often).

Jack finished the main rooms of the warren, leaving the incubator and entrance rooms and tunnels clear. He finished up with making a few ice patterns in the walls and a light layer of snow on the ground. Admiring his work, he hopped up to sit on an egg golem, who seemed perfectly content with Jack doing this. And then he waited.

He did not have to wait long. Bunny made it to his warren, and Jack silently cheered himself for predicting the right tunnel he would come out. He watched from behind the stationed golem, hiding himself the best he could.

Bunny stopped at the base of the slope, feeling the silence. His ears flicked and his nose twitched. He could probably smell the frozen dirt. There was a long moment when Bunny was stock still. Then, "Jaaaaaaaaaack?" Oh, Bunny knew it was him alright. Jack slunk down the other side of the golem, touching the ground and clamping a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

He could hear Bunny treading through the grass. He had not even seen the show yet, but Bunny was smart. He's already figured that Jack had done _something._ He waited until the pooka had moved past his hiding place before finally peeking out to look. He had not expected Bunny to be right there, probably tracking him through smell.

Jack laughed, and jumped away. Bunny lunged forward, but only managed to nick the hoodie with his paw tips before Jack was out of reach. The golem, now between them, seemed to sense the hostility between the frost child and his master and it stood on two proportionally small legs. He spun its head about, not sure if it should protect the child or his master.

Bunny was way ahead of it, leaping over its head for Jack. The winter spirit was more prepared this time, and leapt up into the breeze. It raced him up though the tunnels and he was careful not to freeze the grass here. He needed Bunny to follow, after all.

He broke out into the spacious rooms that led off into different parts of the warren, but Jack had gotten far enough. He shot straight up into the air, creating a shelf to sit on near the ceiling. Bunny burst into the room mere seconds later, followed by two still confused golems.

He had given a battle cry upon entering, thinking he'd cornered the frost child. It died in his throat with a squeak as he skidded to a halt in front of Jack's first creation. Now this was the fun part. With a fair amount of concentration, Jack animated the ice version of Bunnymund, as the real one stared in utter horror.

Finding small amusement in Jack's trick, Bunny tilted his head in one direction. Ice Bunny mirrored the action. He did a few more movements, the sculpture mimicking, until Bunny did something rather complicated and Jack's limited manipulation was not able to keep up from that distance. Bunny smirked as he caught sight of Jack perched on the side of the wall near the ceiling.

Jack chose that moment to stand to his full height, stepping off into air. This was the hard part. He lifted the staff over his head and with a burst of light, all the other Bunnymund ice sculptures jumped to life.

Bunny, to his credit, did not run away. He backed up until he ran into one his golems, the look of horror on his face was back.

"It's… It's an army," the pooka finally said. "Of me!" He glanced up at Jack, giving him a wry expression. "That's creepy, mate."

Jack landed next to him, feeling drained and no longer constipated. "They aren't replicas," he informed the other Guardian.

Bunny caught on without him having to say more. "They won't explode in a few minutes, then?"

With a grin and a gentle pat on Bunny's shoulder, Jack shook his head in the negative. "They won't explode ever. Good luck finding them all!" And with that, the wind sucked Jack back down to the entrance tunnel and out onto the surface world, Bunny's exasperated shout trailing behind him.

_Afterword: I'm only ever creative with prank ideas when I'm playing Minecraft. Anyway, so Wings of Indigo requested that Jack pull a prank. It wasn't fantastic, but I thought it was funny. I mean, how creepy would it be if every time you walked into your home you'd find an exact replica of yourself, that moved and stuff? And just when you think you've got them all, you find five more. It's like filling your house with mannikins that wear your clothes and you just keep finding more. And they move around, so it's not like you can do sweeps of the house because they'd just wander into places that you just looked while you were looking in another. I have a feeling that Bunny would keep at least one, just for ego purposes. This may end up becoming one of those reoccurring jokes._

_Also there's a difference from a replica, which acts on its own an will explode into snow after a few minutes, and and ice mannikin that will not melt or explode. Jack can manipulate them better than he can the replicas, but they will also act on their own accord, but it's a zombie like wander thing they do. They only do specific actions if jack is manipulating them directly. The closer he is to it, the easier it is for him. Headcannon stuff, that I just made up because I need to sleep and stop rambling..._


	27. Forever Frozen

_Set after the movie. Requested by Perdidleo (and maybe a few other I have forgotten to write down. Sorry…)_

"Jack Frost? The Easter Bunny? Santa Claus?"

"His name is North!" Jamie wanted to say more but he was pushed to the ground before it could happen. He wanted to tell them that Jack Frost was like a brother, Bunnymund was one of his closest friends, and North was the father that never ran out on him. He wanted to tell them so much, but they just kicked him in the chest so hard he could not breath.

"D'aw!" One of them cooed maliciously. "Does the wittle baby want to cry?" He laughed and heaved the smaller boy to his feet.

His compatriot grabbed the front of his sweater roughly, dragging him away. "Look here ya little fag, this is our school. We own it, and that means we own you, fresh-meat."

Jamie tried to look him in the eyes, tried to be defiant, but he learned from the last time that is only earned him a punch to the stomach.

"Your little imaginary friends aren't coming for you, and they never will. A little word of advice: start living the in the real world, kid."

The boy- Omar was his name?- dropped him roughly on the astroturf and left him to curl into a ball. He and his friends stalked away, leaving Jamie alone in the waning light of the cold Friday evening.

* * *

Jack ghosted into Jamie's window. The third week of fall and finally Tabe was willing to give up enough of his summer hold on the northern hemisphere that Jack was not going to get burned. He was excited to be back in Burgess, even if he was not allowed to freeze anything without the Persian summer spirit coming down on his head.

"Jamie! You are not going to believe what happened while I was in Venezuela!" Jack cheered, coming to perch on the boy's bed.

Jamie was turned away, and made no move that he had heard Jack. He was leaned studiously over his desk, probably working on homework. That's right, Jack remembered, Jamie just started high school. Jack never understood why things like Algebra were important. He had wanted Jamie to take French, because that was something that Jack could actually help him with. He knew his English well, but Jack was a terrible speller. French, though, Jack could speak a mean French.

"Did you need help with French? I can help. Then we can go out and play in the leaves. I've gotten better at painting them cooler colors. I've almost gotten purple down. Cupcake was looking a bit lonely, I'm sure she'd like the company." Jack felt like he was rambling, and Jamie still did not turn. Jack frowned, feeling an ache that was all too familiar. That feeling he got when he was talking to air. "You mad at me, kiddo? I'll tell you, it's Tabe's fault. He wouldn't let me anywhere near until the wind finally yelled at him. Well, wind doesn't really yell at people, but he started blowing him south because it was my turn. But you know how Tabe can be. He doesn't like me. Not that I blame him or anything… Jamie?"

Jack finally broke down and moved forward off the bed. He stood just behind Jamie, afraid to touch him. He did not want to find out if that terror in his gut was justified. Maybe Jamie was listening to his music really loud or something. That had happened before and it had scared the living daylights out of Jack.

"Jamie!" He yelled right behind the boy, his voice cracking.

Jamie suddenly turned, standing from his chair. Jack grinned, fighting back the tears of relief as they clouded his eyes. Jamie stepped forward, only to pass right through the winter spirit. He rifled through some papers on his bedside table, the returned to his homework.

Jack wanted to scream and cry, but he was frozen. That terrible feeling of being hollow and _dead_ echoed through his entire being, curling and twisting his insides into painful knots.

"Jamie…" he whispered brokenly, pushing the name past his lips, past the pain. He prayed to the moon and whatever god that thought he was some running joke, that this was all a hoax. That Jamie would turn and smile and laugh. Tell him he was just kidding and that Jack looked funny when he was terrified.

Jack slapped his own face. This was stupid. All kids had to grow up someday. All kids stopped believing eventually. Jack knew that. Every immortal knew that. It was a simple fact of their long lives. It still hurt more than anything Jack had ever felt, only because he himself had followed the ridiculous belief that Jamie would believe in him forever.

The storm that hit Burgess and the surrounding towns put the blizzard of '68 to shame. Jack did not care. He did not care that he had accidently put two people in the hospital, or that he was too weak to fight back when Tabe went after him for messing around with the seasons. He did not care, because Jamie, _his_ Jamie had stopped believing in him. His sweet, darling little brother had finally grown up, and Jack was left behind, forever frozen in time.

_Afterword: I really should be finishing my essay… and studying for finals… and doing college shit. But it's been three excruciating days of writing about Romantic art and how it's connected to Frankenstein, and I'm tired. So here. Have this…thing. That was crapped out of my brain. This will have at least two follow ups, maybe more. I don't know, but I'm coalescing a bunch of requests into one thing, so there you go. So yeah, I am sorry about the break in constant updates. It hurt me too, I was in torcher. But as soon as finals are over, I have five weeks of freedom to spam you all with. The way things are looking, as soon as I finish this essay I'll be good to go, because this is my final in one class and then there are just the others… Okay, I'm done ranting. Oh wait, no I'm not._

_Headcanon time: Jack speaks French very well because he grew up early 1700's, late 1600's. There was a lot of tension between the English and French during that time that would eventually lead up to the French and Indian War, or the Seven Years War (whatever you want to call it). A lot of people in the colonies, especially the people that lived out on the frontier where there wasn't as much protection from French soldiers, and where I assume Jack and his family lived, spoke French. So Jack speaks semi-fluent French._

_Tabe, or Tab'stan, is my made up spirit of summer, because I'm too lazy and busy to do the research required to find one. His name is pronounces 'Tabe-stane', which is the Persian word for summer (I think). Why I chose some Persian guy, don't ask. I just wanted to. Because Persia was largely a desert. And I love the way old-timey Middle Eastern clothing looks. You guys liked Aegir, so I'm experimenting some. Just for the record, Jack and Tabe are __**not**__ friends. Well, they kind of are, but not really… if that makes sense… Okay, I'm leaving now._


	28. Forever Remembered

_Set after the movie. Follow up "Frozen Forever"._

By the time he reached Santoff Claussen, Jack wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep forever. He hurt everywhere. His skin hurt, his muscles, his head. Most of all, his heart hurt. He had long ago stopped crying. He was not sure if it was because he did not have the tears left, or the energy.

Tabe had given him a thorough lashing, but secretly Jack welcomed it. It was a distraction, an excuse. He simply did not have the will to smile and chase away all the concern that all the other Guardians would heap on him in waves. But neither could he stand to be alone. He could not bring himself to sit in the silence, knowing that somehow this was his fault. So he welcomed the burns and bruises. He welcomed the headache and how everything felt hot even when he was so desperately cold. He welcomed it, because it was better than the pain in his chest, eating at his soul.

Phil was there was Jack crawled into his window. The yeti was always good at knowing when Jack arrived. He was also very good at telling Jack's mood by the amount of snow falling. There was not a flake in the air, but Jack was too tired to try and create some. Even for the sake of fooling Phil.

The yeti greeted him warmly, then jumped from his chair upon seeing his state. Phil was over at the window in a motion so fast it made Jack a little nauseous. He caught Jack as he lost his balance and tumbled off the sill. He was vaguely grateful to the yeti. Hitting the wood floor would not have been great for his already throbbing head.

Phil pulled him up into his arms and onto the bed. Jack was so tired; the feel of the cool blankets beneath him was heavenly, even if we had no will to frost them. The yeti was all concern and frantic grunts. Jack could barely understand the wild gestures that seemed to blur sickeningly. He groaned and silently begged the fur creature to stop. Phil complied, bending over Jack for a closer look.

"M'fine," he mumbled half-heartedly. "Jus' tired."

He could almost hear the frown of disapproval and that made him laugh a little. It sounded weak and hollow, even to his own ears and he swallowed it up as fast as it had escaped, hoping Phil thought nothing of it.

He did not know when he closed his eyes, or when he started to fall asleep, but he was suddenly ripped back from the abyss by North's hand on his shoulder. He glared up at the enormous man, or at least tried to but if felt like his nerves were disjointed and everything was moving five seconds behind schedule.

"Jack! What happened?" He said it like he'd been repeating it a few times. "Who did this?" He must have been referring to the burns. Usually when Tabe and Jack went at it, Jack would hide for a few days so as not to get the summer spirit in trouble. They hated each other at times, but Tabe had given him some valuable advice in the past.

"Nothing, just me being stupid," he answered, sounding more coherent than he was really feeling. "I jus' want to sleep." He rolled over and away from North and Phil.

The Russian was having none of it. He forced him to roll back to him, blue eyes meeting blue. "What happened?"

Jack was not sure what exactly brought on the anger, but it flashed through him faster than he could ever hope to control or stop. It washed away the pain, the headache, and the exhaustion. It brought everything into crystal clarity. Jack had always been good at avoiding being cornered. In the four years he had been a Guardian, he had learned how to get around the others, how to avoid confrontations that he did not want. But right now, right here, North held him in place. He could not just blast snow in his face and escape out the window, not with Phil clutching his staff firmly. He was stuck, trapped, cornered. And that made Jack panic. Panic made him angry.

He lashed out, hitting at the muscled arm, trying and failing to squirm away. North was not letting him go so easily.

"Let me go," he growled, feeling the ache of fatigue creeping into him again.

"No, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?" North was nothing if not firm.

Jack glared at him for a long time. "Tabe," he finally answered. He saw the triumph in the Russian man's eyes, as well as the anger. Something like guilt pushed away the hit his pride was feeling and he punched North's shoulder as hard as he could.

The Russian made a noise of discomfort, finally letting Jack go. The winter spirit grabbed at the red coat he was wearing, making him stop from leaving.

"It wasn't his fault," he defended, feeling tired beyond reason all of a sudden. "It was-" He cut off, feeling sick. Jamie had not even seen him, had walked right through him. He was invisible again, intangible. Sure, other kids were starting to see him, but Jamie had been different. Jamie was his brother, his best friend. He'd been his first real believer. And now he was…gone.

"Jack?" North prodded gently.

Jack almost wanted to cry again. He did not think he could. He was too numb, too tired. He felt too defeated. "Jamie can't see me anymore."

North made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a curse, mumbling something that sounded obscene in Russian. He sat down on the bed beside Jack, the sudden depression in the cushion making Jack roll into him. The man's arm was around his shoulder in something that felt suspiciously like a hug, but was also somehow stopping him from rolling clear off the bed.

"Jack-"

"I know, I know," Jack stopped him. He did not want to hear it. He already knew how the world worked, and he did not want to be reminded. "I'm just really tired, North."

"We should get these looked at," North gestured to his foot where the biggest burn was.

Jack almost smiled, but knew that it would just make it worse. "Nah, Tabe's done worse before." At North's bug-eyes expression, Jack was quick to add, "he's also probably just as bad off as I am. No harm done."

North sent Phil away to get cooling ointments anyways. North stayed with him for a while. They talked for a while and North worked to make Jack feel at least a little better. Jack grew sleepy again and was out even before Phil had finished applying the ointment.

Jack dreamed of Jamie. He dreamed of their snowball fights, and helping him with his school work. Of helping the kid ask his first crush to a dance, and going sledding. He dreamed of the first night Jamie looked at him with so much awe and admiration. The elation and joy swirled through him, making the memory as crisp as the moment it was made. They were bitter and painful dreams, but they were also so very sweet. He cherished them close to his heart, refusing to forget.

_Afterword: I did it, guys! I finished! Thank you all for the support, it really helped. Okay so I actually planned to have Jack have a conversation with Tabe, but it quickly turned into me trying to explain his back story and I really did not want that. So you'll all meet him later, I promise. There is one more for this arch after this, for those of you that are looking for a bit of reconciliation. Then we have the number 30. Which means an uber long chapter for you guys! In the meantime, I'm going to go kill some Templars because I have not played a video game in three weeks, which is stupid and must be fixed. Peace out, folks._


	29. Forever Protected

_Set after the movie. Third part of the Forever arch._

There was a rustle beside him and Jack looked over in time to see Tabe's red cape close around his body as he landed. Even in the chill night, the summer spirit radiated warmth that made Jack uncomfortable.

The awkward silence that followed could have made a frost giant squeak.

"So… how is your foot?" the Persian asked finally.

Jack shrugged, scuffing said foot on the roof tiles that it sat on. "How's your back?"

Tabe rolled his shoulders. "I thought I had them all, but I found another this morning. What is it with you winter spirits and throwing ice dagger things at people? You would think it was your solution to everything."

Jack could not help the laugh. "Sorry."

The summer spirit peered at him through the shadows of his hood. "Why are you here, shepherd boy? I thought for sure you'd be sulking a little longer."

Jack tapped the edge of his staff against the roof tiles, frost racing across it and making the other leap to his feet with a yelp. His cape fluttered out like wings, lifting him off the roof as he glared at Jack. "You did that on purpose."

Jack smirked. "No, I was making a gesture to the kid in the house," he defended innocently.

The frost was forgotten. "Jamie or Sophie?" Jack quirked a look up at the other. With a roll of his eyes, the Persian settled back on the roof, brushing away the frost before he sat down. "What, you think just because I don't protect children in specific that I don't pay attention?" He said something in Farsi that sounded like a curse, but Jack was not sure.

"Jamie. He stopped believing in me."

Tabe gave him a look. "Kids grow up. You weren't this sad when Mickey stopped believing. You certainly didn't start a storm over it. Do you know how angry Bluebird was at me? Little bastard thought it was my fault."

"Who?"

"Never mind." Tabe waved his hand in dismissal. "Why are you sulking over one child?"

Jack sighed, curling his legs up to rest his head upon his knees. "I guess it doesn't matter."

Tabe made an impatient noise, a warm wind signifying his taking to the air again. Desert Wind was Tabe's friend, although the summer spirit had the ability to fly on his own accord (something that Jack didn't have, not that he really needed it). It brought with it the smell of dried grass, wet dust, and cactus blossoms, and left an arid feeling in Jack's throat. The Winter Wind was quick to chase its warmer brother away from Jack.

"Where are you going?" Jack asked.

Tabe wavered in the air, balanced on the invisible force of the wind. His cape fluttered around him, the gold embroidery catching the light from the houses. "I know who is causing that boy misery. I wish to fix it, but I don't have very much influence over the human realm." He looked pointedly at Jack.

Jack smirked. "You're actually asking for my help? Tabe, what did this bird person do to you?"

Tabe made a face, and turned his head sharply so that his hood hid it. "You don't want to meet Blue. He's mean, with teeth."

"Alright, Sparky," Jack pulled the topic back at hand. "Who's messing with Jamie?"

"Bullies."

Jack made a face and Tabe patted him on the shoulder.

"You will help me… eh, dispose of them?" Tabe's smile was all innocent, but even the darkness of his hood could not hide the mischief in his eyes.

* * *

Jamie was not entirely sure what exactly happened, or when everything started to get weird. Omar was on him one second, the next he was slipping around on the concrete like it had suddenly turned to ice. Something in his brain told him he should not have found that strange, that he should know who could cause ice to magically appear. Another part of his brain, the one that strangely had the voice of his physics teacher, told him that it had been cold last night and there was still ice everywhere.

Omar slid away, managing to not pull the smaller boy with him as he bowled into his friends. They all went sprawling across the ice, soaking themselves in the half frozen water. They groaned and complained as they regained their balance.

Omar zeroed in on Jamie. With a squeak he would later defend as being completely dignified, the smaller boy turned and fled. He did not have to run far. Omar slipped again, sliding forward a few feet before falling over backwards.

Jamie laughed as the junior boy slid past him, yelling as if he was being tossed around on a rollercoaster.

It did not take long for the rumor to spread that scrawny little Jamie Bennet had stood up to Omar and his gang and had won. The rumor quickly turned into Jamie being smart to know that the track was still icy and had led Omar into a trap. Then in morphed into Jamie having splashed the water on the track the night before so that it would freeze.

In truth, Omar and his gang had retreated, saying something about flying guys in red cloaks and white haired devils. They were bruised and soaked, and never even went near Jamie Bennet again.

Jamie to his credit, tried to remember why the term 'white haired devils' rang a million bells in his head. It felt like a memory from an old dream, distant faces and smells and sounds.

He could never figure out why he kept hearing a laugh in the air that felt so painfully familiar, even when he was alone.

_Afterword: First thing's first. When I said I was finished in the last a/n, I was referring to my essay and the chapter, all written up and edited before dinner time. This story does not have a legit plot, which means that it does not have an end. So I can go forever. Or at least until I'm bored._

_Second: I lied. Sorry. I thought this was going to be the last one in this arch, but I saw this picture on tumblr of Jack and Jamie and I just had to do something… So yeah. You'll see what I mean later. But there is one more for this arch, but it will be after the 30. Or, you know, maybe it won't. I don't know yet._

_Third: Headcannon stuff. Every spirit has an object that is a source of power for them. Jack is obviously the staff. North, his dual swords. Tooth has her wings (which doesn't make sense, but headcannon). Bunny has his boomerangs, and I have no idea what Sandy would have… Anyway. Tabe's source is his scarf. Aegir has a silver cuffs on his arms. They don't have to be objects of use, although they are most of the time._

_More headcannon, and more relavent. As a child gets older, they start getting burdened by reality. They start forgetting about childish games and fantasies and start focusing on the real world and their real problems, like bullies. After a while, the memories they had created with spirits takes on an almost dream like quality. Sometimes they can remember things and get some serious déjà vu. Once a child has stopped believing, it's hard for them to start again, because now the simple logic of life blocks out the belief in magic. Certain people, like artists and spiritual people can see spirits long past adolescence and into adulthood._

_Is it me, or are these a/n's getting longer?_


	30. Clear Skies and Bloody Noses

_Set after the movie, before the Forever arch. This is the second Christmas Jack spends as a Guardian._

It was not a small request, but it was going to make a lot of people happy. Jack knew that, that was why he agreed. He wanted to give children fun Christmases. He knew that some of them asked for white Christmases, but a lot of them asked for their families. They wanted their families home, safe and sound.

Jack could understand that, and so did North. The Russian knew that only Jack could provide safety from the weather.

"You are sure you can do this?" North asked again for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jack smirked, twirling his staff. "Piece of cake, North."

"Five days, Jack. Then you can have big storm. I promise."

Jack laughed at the big man, patting his arm. "You don't have to bribe me." Of course, North did not know that when Jack released, it would be nothing less than a big storm. Five days was a long time to be plugged up.

Jack agreeing had put the stressed man into a good mood. He was singing in Russian again as he stalked through his workshop. Five days until Christmas and North barely had time to make this request, let alone indulge the winter spirit. So Jack left, already planning how he was going to keep himself occupied.

This was more difficult than the other Guardians imagined. This did not just mean plugging himself up and riding out the discomfort. No, this was a test of Jack's self-control. He had to be very careful. A single moment's lapse of concentration and a leak could turn into a flood. That included sleep.

After the second day, Jack knew he would not be able to hide the discomfort from the Guardians. They were very observant of their youngest member, which made Jack feel uncomfortable half the time.

A year and a half of being a Guardian and Jack was still unused to social interaction. So spending a little time by himself was no big deal. He just had to be careful. Five days was a long time for Jack Frost to missing from the Guardian's radar. Leaving a messy note saying he was off to do some stuff and he'd be back would have worked any other time of the year. But not around Christmas.

He supposed he could just hide. Five days was not long enough for them to just drop everything to find him. No, that usually took a few weeks. The wind seemed to like the hiding idea, but that was mostly because it would get a chance to toss Jack wherever it wanted for a few days.

He spent the first day chasing clouds, battening down the hatches, closing himself off. This was the easiest day. If he kept himself busy he could ignore the way everything felt weird, like his clothes did not fit him anymore.

It was in the Atlantic that someone finally caught up to him. In hindsight, he should have known that Aegir would sense him messing around with the icebergs, but he still managed to make Jack jump clear into the air when he turned around and found two large fish eyes peering at him.

With an indigent yell, Jack leapt away across the ice, tossing the fish an angry look. "Do you mind not magically appearing behind me? I could have frozen you."

The fish tried to make a humming noise, but it sounded more like a gargle. He did not seem bothered in slightest by his failure. "That would have been uncomfortable. It's a good thing you didn't."

"What do you want?"

"Why are you here?"

"I asked first?"

"My question is more valid."

"How is my question not valid?"

"Because this is my ocean and you're messing with it. I have perfectly good reason—Stop making me answer before you answer. That's cheating. Why are you here?"

Jack smirked. "I'm just moving this iceberg north, upon North's request."

"North, for North? That's confusing."

"Aegir," Jack sighed.

"You could have asked me, chap. I would have done it."

"That's okay, I wanted to."

"Why does he want an iceberg moved? And aren't you busy doing whatever seasonal spirits do on the solstice?"

"He doesn't. I'm just moving it back north so that it will take a little longer for it to melt. And I'm making the solstice solo this year. Father Frost is hanging out with Loki and Old Man Winter."

"You're trying to delay a storm?" Aegir's face suddenly lit up. "That's why it feels weird today! There aren't any storms."

Jack laughed and nodded, catching a breeze and fluttering up into the air. "Yup, you've figured it out. Now get off the iceberg so I can blast it."

"If you're not making storms, then let me do it."

"Why?"

"Because what else am I supposed to do?"

"Make waves?" Jack shrugged.

The unimpressed look the fish gave him made him laugh. "What do I look like to you, a bloody wave machine?"

"A what?"

"A wave machine. It's this thing that humans created to make waves in swimming pools. I don't understand it. Why don't they just come to the ocean and play in the waves. I make better waves than any automated piece of junk can."

"So you do make waves."

"Oh, shove off."

Jack laughed and cocked his staff back. The fish's massive eyes got even bigger and he made a mad scramble to leap off the ice and back into the water. Not a second later, the wind headed his call and blasted the side of the iceberg.

* * *

The second day was when he started feeling the discomfort. It was when his head started to hurt, his skin got itchy, and he felt like a sponge soaked in water. He was jittery and unable to hold still for more than a few minutes. He felt like Tooth on a bad day.

So he went to visit Jamie. The kid wouldn't ask why Jack wanted to play with snowballs for hours and hours, because that was normal. But the winter spirit just could not hold still.

He found Jamie on the couch in his living room, watching a cartoon. Jack usually got sucked into cartoons, something that Jamie found hilarious. His favorite was about a kid and a dog that could stretch forever.

He jumped from the banister on the stairs and landed on the couch hard enough to make Jamie nearly jump into the air. The kid laughed, punching Jack lightly in the arm.

"Hey kiddo, merry Christmas. Let's go do something."

"Merry Christmas, Jack." Jamie made a gesture to the television. "Can it wait? The show will be over in fifteen minutes."

Jack could not wait fifteen minutes. He felt like he could not wait one minute, in fact. He leapt off the couch, taking Jamie's hand and trying to pull the smaller boy up. "They'll show it again, and then we can both watch the reruns. You know I don't like coming in halfway. Let's go outside."

"Ah, Jack! It's cold outside." Jack knew Jamie was joking but he still shot him a look. The boy laughed. "What's with you today?"

"I'm bored," Jack seamlessly lied, even as it felt like there had been a mini-explosion behind his eyes.

Jamie accepted it, allowing himself to be pulled from the couch. "Alright, let me get dressed."

The boy tromped up the stairs to his room and Jack sat back on the couch. Jamie was usually a quick dresser but it felt like he was taking forever. Jack twiddled his thumbs, balancing his staff between his feet. He progressed to tapping his fingers down the side of the crook, and jigging his leg, to finally jumping and shifting in place on the couch.

Jamie finally came down and laughed aloud upon seeing Jack. "Seriously, you okay? Did Bunny give you too much chocolate or something?"

Jack was on his feet and grabbing Jamie's gloved hand without giving a response. Jamie was rushed out the door, yelling something to his mother about going out to play in the snow.

"I want to build a fort and have a snowball fight and make snowmen. I want to do it the old fashioned way. No ice powers." Jack was laughing and felt like he was rambling a little bit, but moving around relieved some of his headache.

"Why old fashioned?" Jamie asked.

"I don't know. Thought it would be more fun," when in truth he was afraid that using more that his uncanny ability to talk to the wind would cause all hell to break loose, and he would have one mother of a storm on his hands.

So he and Jamie played though the majority of the day. They built forts and snowmen. They recruited the other kids to come play with them and had an all-out snowball war, complete with generals and soldiers and barricades along the sidewalks. Jack was the best general of all, and he was proud to state it was not because he had an endless supply of ammunition.

He was almost able to ignore the itchy feeling in his body, or the shots of pain that lanced through his head. He still managed to have fun.

* * *

Jack had never done this for more than three days before. He had never had to. The third day was like the second except tenfold.

He did not bother Jamie again. He spent more time on the wind, riding out the harshest of its twists in the Himalayas. The goddess of the mountain, Himavat, was not amused. She kept throwing ice daggers at him. He turned it into a game, as he did everything. How well could he avoid sharp, flying projectiles? Apparently not very well when their thrower could conjure up solid walls of ice and snow.

Hitting one after only a few minutes hurt his pride only a little more than it hurt his face. He spun, reaching a hand to rub his nose, only to have to duck to avoid being skewered. His hood got caught instead and effectively attached him to the wall.

The woman approached him, fury in her eyes. "Do you ever hold still?"

"No," Jack yelled down defiantly.

She formed another dagger in her hand, but stopped before throwing it. "Actually, I have a better idea," she told him. She hiked up her saris, and turned away. "Now you will have to learn to hold still."

Jack baulked at her. Oh no, he could not just sit here until she either forgave him or for one of the Guardians to catch up to him. They were already starting to look for him. He knew that Sandy could track him through the snowflake, but Jack was faster than master of dreams, so it was really just another game.

Jack knew that he would eventually get over the buzzing in his head and be able to sit still, he was afraid to fall asleep. At this point, the jitteriness had all but left. Jack felt a little like his head had been stuffed with bees and rocks. He was afraid to sit still now because then exhaustion would tug him into sleep, and his powers would leak out past the carefully constructed barriers inside him.

So he squirmed and struggled. He almost ripped the hood at one point and knew he needed to come up with another plan. So with a bit of awkward moving, he slipped out of the hoodie. He left it dangling there like a forgotten flag in the snow. He would come back for it when he could trust himself to use his powers again. For now he would just have to slum it in his ancient and torn up blouse. All the more reason to avoid the others. They would see it and demand to get him a new one. Then they would see how skinny he was and demand he eat more. Jack had been perfectly fine without eating for the last two hundred years, he did not want to get into that habit again.

So without further ado, the wind picked him off the side of the grumpy old mountain and away to circle the northern hemisphere, trying to stay ahead of whichever of the Guardians had been tasked to find him.

* * *

The fourth day was by far the worst. Jack did not think he could do five.

While the last two days had been plagued by headaches and itchy skin, the fourth day was just short of agony.

"Okay, okay," he told the wind as it curled around him in concern. "I will avoid doing this ever again." He curled his arms around his torso. He knew it did not actually do anything, but maybe he could pretend that it would stop his insides from falling out. That's what it felt like they were trying to do.

He supposed yelling at the snow at his feet was not the best way to remain hidden. But he was doing it anyway. It was not anything intelligible, just a long shout that embodied his frustration. The one thing Jack hated more than anything in the world was physical pain. He could handle emotional pain, he'd been doing it for so long, it was not a big deal. But physical pain was something else entirely. It was not often he spent a lot of time trying to hurt himself, so he supposed he was unaccustomed.

So he yelled at the snow. He yelled at the rocks. He even yelled at the wind, even though it knew he was not angry at it. He was never angry at the wind.

That was how Bunnymund finally managed to track him down. It was not like there was much cover on the plain to begin with. The sky was as clear as a bell. How Jack so very much wished he could change that. He supposed yelling at the sky when he had just spotted Bunny on the horizon was not the best way to convince a very astute pooka that everything was ship-shape.

So when Bunny bounded up to his side with a speed only the pooka could reach and was trying to get him to sit down, Jack could not be entirely surprised by the concern. That did not stop him from trying to make fun of it.

"You do care about me! How sweet!"

Bunny was not buying it. He did not look happy. He pulled something white from his pack and began trying to wipe Jack's face.

"What are you doing?" Jack tried to move away, but his sense of balance decided to take an extended vacation. The world tilted sickening and he was suddenly using Bunny's chest as a solid barrier keeping him up.

"No," Bunny said, his voice somewhere between a firm reprimand and gentle concern. "Don't you be getting blood on my fur."

Blood? Jack was not bleeding. He was feeling a little dizzy, though, so maybe Bunny had said frost. That was laughable. "No, I won't. I can't frost anything until after Christmas, idiot."

Normally, Bunny would have lashed out at him, verbally or physically or both, for being called an idiot, but he just pulled Jack away to look at him from an arm's distance. "Why not?"

"Kids want their parents' home. So no storms until after Christmas."

Bunny made a face and the white cloth was back, wiping at his nose and mouth. "You need to sit down, Jack."

Jack shook his head, or at least tried to. The motion was not helping him so he silently vowed to not shake his head again. "Can't. Can't fall asleep."

"And when was the last time you fell asleep?"

"Four days ago," but it felt like four years.

Bunny pushed on his shoulders and pain shot through Jack like a hot poker had been stabbed through his shoulder blades. He knew he cried out, but had no idea how he ended up face first in the snow, with Bunny trying desperately to roll him over.

"Alright, Frostbite. You're alright. Stay with me, kid. You're gunna be alright. I gotta get us back to the pole."

He looked at where his head had hit the snow and noticed that there was a little dark spot staining it. Maybe he was bleeding. Jack reached up with one hand and felt at his face. Something was leaking out his nose and over his lips. He peered at it as his hands came away. The sight of his own blood never stopped being fascinating.

But gods, he felt like there was something inside his head pounding to get out. Where had Bunny gone? "Bunny?"

The pooka was there in seconds, sitting over him. He wiped the cloth over Jack's face again, then wiped his fingers. "What is it? You alright? Who did this? Where's your hoodie?"

Too many questions and Jack could not think. "What's going to happen?"

"I'm going to take you through my tunnels to the pole. You okay with that?"

Jack almost remembered not to shake his head. With a groan, he covered his eyes with his hands as colored exploded across his vision and an effect like broken glass cut Bunny seemingly in half.

"Okay, not okay with that."

"I can't go to the pole."

"Why not? Jack, I am not leaving you out here. Something is wrong and we need to figure out what."

"North can't see. He'll never ask again. It's the only thing useful I can do." Some shot of clarity managed to chase the fog away for a moment. "You can't see either," he told Bunny stupidly.

He rolled over, getting to his feet shakily and reaching for his staff. Bunny was beside him, half trying to steady him, half trying to get him back on the ground. "What can't I see, Jack? I don't understand."

"That's okay." He tried to smile but for some reason his face was not working. He ended up giving Bunny a blank look. Yeah, definitely not helping. He called the wind to him, but it only curled around him, not lifting him. Distantly, Jack knew that the wind was trying to help him by helping Bunny, but it still felt like a betrayal.

Bunny's paw was suddenly wrapped around his staff, frost racing from the wood to fur but Bunny did not seem to mind. Jack did. That little accidental slip hurt because he had to clamp down on it so hard. He felt himself curling over, and knew that Bunny had caught him, but again, he had no idea how he ended up back on the ground.

"What is _this_?" Bunny pulled him up so that Jack was not sitting flat on his back, but had his head propped up on Bunny's leg. The pooka wiped his face again.

Something warred inside him. Insecurity, embarrassment, the feeling of losing a game. This game was not fun anymore.

"If I let go Christmas will be ruined."

"What?"

Yeah, that probably sounded like a non-sequitur. "If I let go of my power, and a storm forms, it will be the biggest storm any of you have ever seen. I can't rest, I can't let up, not until Christmas is over."

"Jack!" Bunny sounded exasperated. "You are killing yourself."

Jack found that funny. "I tried that once. Doesn't work as well as one would think." What was he saying? Bunny was not supposed to know about that.

Bunny was frowning. "I'm sorry, Jack."

Of all the things Jack had expected the pooka to say, that certainly was not it. "Wha…?"

"I say mean things to you all the bloody time. I forget that you spent all that time by yerself. I know it hurts to be walked through, but I forget that sometimes. I'm sorry, Jack. You don't have to do this. You don't have to hurt yourself for us."

Where was this coming from? "I was doing it for the kids," he replied weakly.

Bunny draped an arm over his chest in something that was almost a hug. "I know something's wrong with you because you are usually a bloody fantastic liar. That was pitiful."

Jack actually laughed at that. "I can't let go yet." He repeated, more to himself than Bunny. "But I don't want to be alone."

Bunny snorted. "Well, I don't want to be out here in the cold."

Jack smiled, feeling so utterly relieved for some terrible reason that Bunny didn't tell him to shove off. "To the Warrens then?"

* * *

The fifth day was Christmas day. Bunny had agreed to not tell North of Jack's state until after he had come back from delivering presents. He did make Jack promise that as soon as North was done with his rounds on the northern hemisphere that he would stop holding himself in and go make a mother of all storms over the pole.

By the time everything was over, Jack was sure that there was probably a new glacier and Santoff Claussen was thoroughly buried. North and Sandy greeted him once the worst of the storm had passed, three days later. He was sure that the people in New York had though the Ragnarok had come. Loki would be disappointed.

Jack was tired, not having slept since the request had been made, and drained beyond anything. He was not interested in his presents that the others had saved for him, or the snowflake cookies that elves had baked in his honor. The only thing he cared about was his bed in his spare room.

He did not make it that far. The wind dropped him on North, but the huge man was almost expecting it. Jack was out even before North had finished telling him that he was sorry and would never ask Jack to do such a thing again.

North looked at the master of dreams at his side, but the smaller man just shrugged. Jack was out on his own, there was not a grain of gold sand over his head. Sandy, of course, fixed that as soon as they got Jack tucked into his bed at the top of the complex.

The party and the talk could wait until Jack recovered. For now, the Russian would just have to be put up with Bunny making him wash a bunch of bloody rags and of course doing a mad search for the boy's hoodie. Perhaps even making him a new shirt while he was at it. North could probably get away with showering the boy with presents at this point and nothing would have made him happier.

_Afterword: I'm going to try to keep this short. This chapter was brought to you by coffee and Adventure Time. Thank you guys for all the support and lovely comments. I'll have the last part of the Forever arch up tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed this!_

_Edit: Sorry guys for all the typos. Thought I had caught them all but I'm blind as a bat sometimes. I hope this is better._


	31. Forever Held

_Set after the movie. Last part (probably) of the Forever arch._

Jamie was not sure how it happened. One moment his son was beside him, the next he was running across seemingly stable ice chasing after the dog. Jamie looked up from their lunch in time to see the boy stop dead in his tracks as the dog fell through the ice. He could hear, all the way from the hiking trail, the terrifying sound of the ice cracking.

Jamie hated that sound.

He was racing as fast as his legs could take him, terror and panic blinding him and driving him forward. He did not care if he fell into the ice himself. All he cared about was the boy. All he saw was the ice cracking, his son falling down, down, down. He watched Sammy disappear into the crack in the ice and Jamie stopped dead.

For one terrifying moment he knew that his son was gone. He knew that he would walk home alone today. He knew that no matter who he called that it was too late. His little boy was gone forever, eaten by an invisible, intangible monster in the lake. He threw his fear out the proverbial window and started sliding across the ice toward the crack.

Only for a tiny hand, perfectly dry and fine to peak out from the crevice and grab at the edges of the ice. Then a little mousey brown head, and bright eyes, and a huge smile. The dog crawled out after him, not a drop of water on her coat, if not a little shaken. The ice was suddenly thick, safe, and his son was running across it toward him.

Jamie caught the boy, holding him to his chest as the dog tried to lick his face. Sophie had always told him that men did not cry, but Jamie cradled his son and wept anyway.

Then he realized something impossible. The dog had fallen through the ice, he had seen water splash up at her entry. Yet she was perfectly dry. Jamie looked at his son, the boy's face still buried in his chest. There was not a drop on either of them. But Jamie had _seen_ the water.

He set the boy on the ice, telling him to stay put. The kid was eager to obey, clinging to his dog for comfort as Jamie crawled across the ice to the crevice. The ice had cracked here, alright, but it looked like someone had flash frozen the lake around both the boy and the dog.

Flash frozen? Something in his mind stuttered to a halt as something else clicked back into place. Frozen, only one person in the universe could freeze a lake like this. At least that Jamie knew of. But he was not real, he was some myth that Sammy still believed in.

But it was stuck in his head now. Frozen, repeating in his mind over and over like a mantra. He knew someone once who could freeze a lake. Someone who had died in this lake, and had told Jamie that he would never allow another child to drown here. Jamie remembered that conversation with a striking clarity. The white-haired boy that was in so many of his dreams as a child. He remembered the first time he saw him, the way he was elated and frightened and so inhumanly graceful.

"Jack Frost…" The words whispered past his lips brought back the memories of a hundred year ago, it felt like. How could he have forgotten? How could he have stopped believing?

Jamie felt the chill then, and it was foreign and familiar, like he had felt it in another life. He turned back to look across the lake, finding what he was looking for. Jack Frost, the same exact one he had met when he was ten years old. The boy that never grew old, that was always young, always mischievous. The boy that so few believed in. Hair like snow, skin like death, eyes like the sky on a cloudless winter day.

And there he was, watching over his son like a guardian. Staff in one hand, the other making snowflakes out of thin air. The only thing that was different was the cloak around his shoulders, snow white and littered with the designs of his power. It was long and grand, and made him look far more imposing than he actually was. It fitted him, making him look other-worldly, like he had been formed from the ice itself.

Jamie approached, breathless. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. Jack looked up upon his approach, and his smile turned sad. Jamie's heart felt like it had was suddenly yanked out of his chest. How had Jack taken Jamie's disbelief? Had Jamie ever walked through him? Jack had told him once a million years ago that being walked through hurt. Not just emotionally, but actually hurt. He hoped he had never walked through his guardian.

Jamie walked past Sammy, who was still sitting on the ice clinging to Nikki. He walked right up to Jack, grabbing the stunned spirit's shoulders. He shook him lightly, making sure that he was real. The cloak was soft beneath his hands and ice crept between his fingers. But he did not let go.

Jack's blue eyes were impossibly wide and terrified, as if he was not sure what to make of this. He opened his mouth to say something, but a nervous laugh fluttered out instead. "You- you can see me?"

Jamie just nodded. He did not know what else he could do but nod and stare and wonder how he could have ever thought Jack was a dream. Jack was his best friend, his brother. Jamie was never so _ashamed_ as he was in that moment, knowing that he had actually forgotten about his childhood hero.

"You saved my son," Jamie finally deadpanned.

Jack's grin could have outshone the sun. "I know. I told you, I would never let another child drown in this lake. I meant that."

"I can't believe you remember telling me that."

Jack smirked. "It wasn't that long ago."

Jamie suddenly understood a lot of the things that Jack had told him when he was a child that he had been too young to know anything about. He suddenly understood that Jack was not as carefree as would like everyone to believe. That being immortal was not as fun as humans think it could be. He understood that Jack was a very lonely person, and he always would be. He realized that Jack was not just another kid on the block, he was not just his special friend. Jack was not even human, and the scientist and historian in him wanted to ask this ancient being a million questions.

Jamie pulled the three-hundred year old child into his arms and did not want to let go until Jack realized that he would never forget again. Jack's staff clattered to the ground beside him and frozen fingers clenched into his overcoat on his back. Jack shuddered in his arms and Jamie knew that he had been terribly wounded by his disbelief. It only made Jamie hold his tighter.

He distinctly remembered that the last time he had hugged the winter child, Jack had been taller than him by a head. Now, however, Jack was shorter, and Jamie felt like he was hugging a child. In a sense, he was. Jack never grew up. He was frozen in time, forever.

That did not mean that Jamie would ever forget about Jack again. He would hold the winter spirit in his heart till the moment he died. For the moment, however, he was happy to just hug him.

_Afterword: Last part. Hope you guys enjoyed. I gave Jack a new cape/cloak thing because I'm kind of obsessed with them right now. Let's see, math time. This is when Jamie is about 30ish, so twenty years after he first meets Jack, and about 40 years since Jack got the hoodie (I think). I'll explain the cape in more detail if I ever do a drabble about how he got it, but basically it's about mid-calf length, white, and has fuzz on bottom and around the collar. It has a hood and snowflake designs on it. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoyed._

_Oh, wait. One more thing. Himavat is actually a guy, but in my headcanon, it's a she. So… yeah._

_Also, it would be so much easier to answer your questions if you logged in. To kize93 (who didn't log in) 1) yes, the mentioned suicides will be explained. 2) That picture inspired this chapter. It was of Jack and an older Jamie (at least I assumed it was Jamie) hugging. I would link it but tumblr isn't working for me right now. 3) yes I have a Tumblr, and yes you may follow me. I'm brokenwolf13 (I think), although I don't do much except reblog random shit. And 4) yes, you may do art. You don't even need to ask. I'm very flattered, in fact. _


	32. Half-Lucid Observations

_Set after the move. This got cut from 'Clear Skies and Bloody Noses'._

Bunny discovered that he disliked a brutally honest Jack more than a pranking one.

And it was not because Jack was complaining, either. No, if the boy had been complaining about things, then maybe he would not find this to be the hardest conversation he had ever had. It was the mere fact that he was not complaining that made Bunny's skin crawl. It was the fact that he was making observations about everything.

Bunny would never make the mistake of thinking Jack did not know what was going on again. From the way he was talking, it was like he watched them all through magnifying glass, then made terrifyingly accurate assumptions as to why they all did the things they do. And who would have guessed that a half-delirious Jack had no qualms in talking about things that he normally would have given his 'I'm really depressed by this but you don't need to know that' smile.

To be honest himself, Bunny would have happily taken a prank or even a storm on Easter as long as he never had to see the winter child like this again. Not only did he have a perpetually bloody nose, but the dark liquid was leaking from between his lips and his ears. He wavered between being frighteningly clear-headed and delirious beyond reason. He would not hold still for more than a few minutes, and if he was not blazing a trail down one of the tunnels he was pacing a ditch in the dirt. He fiddled with the eggs, threw rocks at the golems, and talked.

He talked to Bunny, talked to the golems, talked to eggs, talked to the walls, talked to the air, talked to his hands, even talked to his feet at one point. And it was not just senseless rambles, either.

"I wasn't supposed to tell him that," Jack told the wall. "It was a secret, and he shouldn't know it."

"What was a secret, Jack?"

Jack suddenly turned to him, nearly hitting Bunny when he flailed his arm. "That secret, and you shouldn't know about it," he told him firmly. His eyes were sharp in that moment, so Bunny knew he was not going to get anything out of him.

Bunny sighed and wiped Jack's face again. The boy had stopped trying to squirm away at this point and just let Bunny do his thing. "Yer not going to tell me at all?"

"Nope…" He paused and stared intently at one of the stationary egg golems and Bunny knew he had lost him again. "It was a secret, and I should not have said anything. It will only hurt people," he whispered sadly, and Bunny was not sure who he was talking to.

"Why will it hurt people, Jack?" Bunny felt better if Jack was talking. It made seeing him half delirious a little less painful. He was really going to give North an earful. Then when Jack was better, he was going to give Jack one too for not telling them about this.

"Because people don't like the truth. I know that Tooth doesn't like the truth. She likes to go around pretending that everything has a happy ending, even though she knows that that is impossible. You really think that after three hundred years of talking to my feet that I was going to be okay? My feet do not make very good conversationalists. Yet she gets offended-no, not offended. It's more like that she scrambles to fix things that can't be fixed. You guys all do that. Except you, Bunny. You still say mean things but you don't always try to fix that."

The pooka winced. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say that. It gives me the creeps. If you said sorry all the time, you'd be worse than Tooth." Jack sighed and started walking down one of the tunnels. Bunny, of course followed. "It was a secret that I did not want to tell anyone. Not even Father Frost knows. I think it might have been his fault, from a self-diagnosed stand point."

"What are you even talking about?"

"I tried a few times. I was so alone. I was tired of everyone walking through me. I tried to leap out of a tree once. Did not work. The wind would not let me. I tried to starve myself, but after a few weeks the pain went away and I just wasn't hungry anymore. I would have impaled myself on something, but could never find anything sharp enough, it seemed. I stood up to Pitch once, but even with a death wish, he didn't do much but try to swallow me. That was something even worse happened." He paused for dramatic effect, not in the slightest bit bothered by the dark topic. "I realized that I did not want to die."

Bunny let out a sigh of relief, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath.

Jack suddenly doubled over, holding his torso. Bunny was at his side in an instance, easing him down to the ground. "You'll never try again, right mate?"

"Yeah. I have no desire to die anymore." His face smoothed out, the cringe dying as the pain faded from his body for a moment. "I have a family now." Jack's smile could have lit the cloudless sky with its brilliance.

Bunny would have had said something snarky, the moment almost called for it. But Jack looked so sincere, that he did not think he wanted to shatter the image. So instead of saying anything, Bunny just wiped Jack's face again.

_Afterword: The ending of Clear Skies seemed chopped for a reason. There was a bunch more stuff I wanted to add that I did not have time for. Sorry guys. For those of you looking for follow ups, no worries, because there will be._


	33. Batten Down the Hatches

_Set after the movie. Another for the Clear Skies arch._

Bunny should have expected the explosion upon his arrival to Santoff Claussen. Jack was not looking great, and he knew that all the other Guardians were there. The poor kid had had a perpetual bloody nose throughout the day. It would let up for a while, but never really stopped. His lucidity came in waves, and he was more jittery that a cricket.

So when he pulled a surprisingly lucid Jack from one of his rabbit holes, he really should have expected half the complex to crowd around to figure what the hell was wrong with their winter child. Bunny was not ticked off with the fact that he had just taken care of Jack for the last day, and now Tooth was sending him angry looks like this was _his_ fault. No, not ticked at all. He shoved a bloody rag into her hand and resisted the urge to tell her that Jack was her problem now. Instead he told her to wipe his nose as he went to find Phil.

Thankfully, he did not have to go far. Phil was right there when he turned around. "I'll explain later, but when North gets back, we need to shove him out a window. How well fortified is this place against blizzards?"

Phil told him in yarbled yetish that it depended on the size of the blizzard.

"Well I would try to board up a few windows if I were you."

Phil was smarter than he ever let on. He assigned several elves and yetis to starting boarding up the upper windows. They may not know what was happening, but the yetis could smell danger from three miles, and Jack was radiating it like a bomb.

Bunny was all business. "Where's North?"

"He's over Malaysia, I think," Tooth answered, still looking a little ruffled by the boy's appearance. "Why do we have to shove Jack out a window? He looks like he wouldn't handle being shoved to the floor."

"North is a bloody idiot, that's why. He asked Jack five days ago to hold back storms."

Tooth did not understand for an instance, then she peered at Jack, who was watching them from a comfy chair with an unreadable expression. "Oh…" She trailed away, then fluttered to Jack to offer him some cookies and water.

"He just needs to make a storm and he'll be alright. But at this point he's starting to worry that Santoff Claussen will collapse."

"It's a good concern," Jack shouted from behind a doting Tooth. He looked irritated, but did not have the will to push her away. "I've collapsed houses before."

"Which is why you are doing it up here."

"I could have done it in Antarctica," he lashed back.

Bunny was almost happy that Jack was aware enough to make a valid argument. "And what would happen if you ran into Tabe?"

"You guys think he's a bad dude, but he knows what this is from miles away. He probably already knows what I'm doing and would like nothing but to stay a million miles away. I would not have ran into Tabe."

"And if you don't make it?"

"I would have made it just fine."

"And what happens after you're done? You haven't slept in five bloody days, Jack, and I am not going to go out and find your skinny butt in the Antarctic because you pass out in the snow and can't take care of yourself."

They glared at each other for a minute, but Jack was fighting a losing battle with delirium at this point. "I have taken care of myself for the last three hundred years. You really think I would need you guys _now_?"

And there was half-lucid brutally honest Jack back. Bunny did not like arguing with him, and most certainly not in front of a crowd. Their short spat had done wonders to put Tooth at ease, but Sandy was still making snowflakes in front of Jack's face.

The boy waved them away. "I can't sleep now, and please stop tempting me with snowflakes. That's really mean."

A tragic looked passed across Sandy's face and he gave a pointed look at Bunny. Since when had he become the guru of crazy Jack behavior?

"He'll be fine guys. How long until North is back?"

"Fifteen minutes," Tooth answered flawlessly.

She fluttered a little closer to Jack, who was curling in on himself tighter and tighter as pain wracked his body. He had his hands over his eyes, fingers scratching in his scalp restlessly. "Fifteen minutes," Jack echoed listlessly.

"That's right, mate. Then you can go out make the biggest storm the world has ever seen, and I will be giving North new ears for Christmas."

_Afterword: I really like this arch. It was not supposed to be an arch, but what can you do. You guys seem to like it, so I won't change. Unless you don't like it, in which case you should tell me… Anyway! There's a few more scenes I never got around to writing. I'm sorry if this felt like a filler. I really should not write before or during the consumption of coffee in the morning, and next chapter is much anticipated. So it got its own chapter. And winter just arrived on my doorstep and it's very cold and my fingers are a little stiff. I think the we-don't-get-snow-but-it's-still-butt-cold version of Jack Frost is punishing me. Btw, Jack will continue to get bloody noses until after he's released all his power on the world. The thing that's causing them has to go away before they can._


	34. Storm of All Storms

_Set after the movie. More of the Clear Skies arch._

North's good mood was dashed faster than Jack could get out the door. He only caught a glimpse of the boy before he was gone, a powerful wind nearly pushing him over. Then Bunny was there, all righteous fury and fur up in hackles.

"What has happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened!" Bunny poked a finger into North chest. "You asked Jack to do something that seasonal spirits are not meant to do."

"What?"

Bunny was not even going to let him take off his hat. "Jack is not meant to hold in his power. He can't just _stop_ storms, North. I don't care if you didn't know that, you should have found out. Or at least kept an eye on him."

North, to his credit, had no idea what was going on. "What happened to Jack? Is he alright? Where is he?"

"He's out there now, fixing himself. Let's hope to the moon that he doesn't hurt himself more. Do you know where I found him? I found him in some snow bank, barely conscious, yelling for no reason. I thought he was hurt! He's had a bloody nose for last day, and who knows for how long before I found him. He's been delirious half the time, and I'm not sure the other half." Bunny huffed indignantly. "And I was the one that had to take care of him because he didn't want you to know."

"What? Why not?" Jack could have come to him anytime he wanted. Why was he trying to avoid him? "Is he afraid of me?" Something in North's stomach dropped and he felt a little sick. Jack never showed fear, but that did not mean he never felt it.

"No, ya gumby. He didn't want to disappoint you. I had no idea that-" Bunny cut off, shaking his head. "Bottom line, North. Don't ask him to hold storms in anymore. It hurts him."

"Why didn't he say anything? He could have refused."

Bunny shot him a look and North suddenly understood. Jack _could have_ refused, but he never would. Like a child, he was willing to go to great lengths to please any of the other Guardians.

"I will talk to him. Make him understand."

Bunny put a paw on his arm to stop him from marching out the door at that moment. "Not right now, mate. It's dangerous now."

As if Bunny had commanded the brewing storm, the whole complex shook as it struck with terrifying fury. "Will he be alright?"

Bunny gave him a look as if to say 'how should I know'. "He's Jack. He's a resilient little bugger. But don't _ever_ ask him to do this again. And if he breaks something out there, don't you dare ask me to help you out in fixing anything."

With that Bunny stalked off to raid the eggnog and set up the Guardian's presents under their tree in the globe room. North was left standing at the entrance to the runway, with only a random yeti as company. "Did you know this would happen?" he asked the fur monster.

The yeti shrugged and grumbled something that was not even yetish. The yeti wanted nothing to do with this little spat.

* * *

The storm was nothing short of apocalyptic. The first day had hurt the worst, and felt the best. It was like his insides wanted to explode out of his body, and as soon as he started to let out past his barriers the flood gates opened. Santoff Claussen was buried within hours, and Jack felt when the north wing collapsed.

Thankfully, the only thing that died was the power for a while. The yetis had been keeping a close eye on everything and had seen the signs of structural damage. They had evacuated everyone working in there but the power still went out for a while.

Jack wished he could have done something, but he felt so distant. He remained in the clouds, the wind rushing around him angrily. Ice cut at his body and it was sweet and painful all in the same moment. His blouse would be shreds by the time it was over, and Jack was never so grateful as in that moment to Himavat for taking away his hoodie (however much she had done so inadvertently).

He was sure it had been three days by the time it was over. He could not tell completely. Days were so weird in the poles and his internal time clock had gone haywire with the need to sleep. He was tired, and his body felt empty, but he was no longer in pain.

He finally descended from the clouds, only when he did not think he could keep fueling the storm. It had gone from raging blizzard to gentle snowfall in the last hour alone.

Jack knew that he was done. The wind let him down gently, or at least tried to. It was as tired as he was and kept dropping him short distances . A limp Jack was harder to carry then one that actually moved with it.

Thankfully, North and Sandy were standing on the roof waiting. He supposed that they had probably been standing there since the storm started to die. And he was grateful when the wind dropped him and instead of hitting the roof, he landed in North's arms.

He knew he was awash with cuts and scrapes and probably a few bruises too. He was just too tired and drained to care. "I'm sorry," he still managed to mumble past frozen lips.

If felt like North was trying to carry him and give him a hug at the same time. "You are foolish to think that you have to go so far to please us. We are family, Jack. We do not ask family to do the impossible."

Sandy was nodding vigorously, petting Jack's hair as if he was afraid the boy was going to melt into the storm again. Jack was so tired and so starved for comforting contact that he leaned his head into the hand without meaning to. "The complex is damaged." Like they did not already know, but Jack needed something to say. "I'm sorry."

North made a noise that Jack could not quite identify. "Complex can be repaired. Jack is not so easy to fix. Do not do this again. I will never ask it of you, and you will refuse if someone else asks."

Normally Jack would have been defiant at the blatant order, but right at the moment, he was sure that he really did not want to do that again, anyway. "It's the only useful thing I can do," he told North. He would obey this time, but North needed to know why he did it.

"No, Jack," North told him gently. "A winter spirit needs to make winter, not stop it."

It was like the last of the walls came crashing down. Warmth flooded Jack, but it was the kind of warmth that made him feel safe and sleepy. He knew North wanted to say more, but Jack simply could not stay awake anymore. He trusted the other Guardians would take care of him, they were his family after all.

_Afterword: I need to take a break from this arch because I cannot seem to do it right. I may end up rewriting this later, but I made a promise to you guys, and I intend to keep it. I meant to make Bunny angrier, but he was not being cooperative. I hope you guys liked it. I'm going to let this steep and stew for a while and see if I can come up with something better. In the mean time, I have a million requests that I know you guys have been wanting to see. _

_And yes, my reblog title on tumblr is 'Not So Twisted'. It's really not a place I put things very often. Maybe I'll start putting headcanons and random ideas that I end up scrapping because they're too weird. I think you guys might like that. A peek into my twisted little head. Okay, bye for now._


	35. A Gentleman From the Ice

_Set after the movie._

Nothing had gone right. It had all fallen apart in front of her eyes and there was nothing she could do. Prom was a disaster. Her friends had told her not to go, but she did anyway. Jamie Bennet was off with some pretty little blond thing and Cupcake was left to watch in the background, as usual.

The girl sighed and tried to push a delicate curl behind her ear. She had worked so hard to make herself pretty. The dress made her look slimmer than she was, her hair was curled elegantly, even her shoes were nice. She liked these shoes, and that was saying something considering she had never worn anything other than Converse willingly before.

And yet Jamie had not done much but looked at her with a passing glance. He was far too preoccupied with the girl that had snagged him before she could. Prom had been her last chance. It was supposed to be romantic. She would surprise him, ask him if he wanted to go. He would say yes, and never know just how beautiful she could be. He would end up on her doorstep, flowers in hand and she would come down the stairs to greet him like one of those gorgeous women in the movies, all slow motion and soft lights. He would tell her that she was beautiful and they would go off for a night of romance. Their last fling as high-schoolers before they all went off to their designated colleges.

She had mustered up all her courage to stutter out the offer. And that was when the illusion came crashing down around her. He told her that he had already asked someone. She smiled and told him that was okay, that she would find someone else.

Truth was, there had been no one else.

With another forlorn sigh, she picked up her shoes from the bench beside her and began walking. She had no idea where she was going. The park the prom was at was dark except for around the party area. She knew there was a lake, but she also knew that that was where everyone was going to feel each other up in the grass. She followed the path anyway. Maybe she would see someone she knew and could make fun of him or her for the last month of school.

Something distracted her before she even got very far down the path. Something white, and maybe it even glowed a little. She could not quite tell. It looked like a man, but he was all white. He was standing off to the side of the path, a charming smile on his semi-translucent face. He looked like he had just stepped out of the nineteenth century, complete with a top hat and waistcoat.

Something in her told she should be more alarmed by the glowing ghost-man-thing, but she could not help the childlike curiosity that drove her forward. As she got closer, he bowed and tipped his hat in greeting. Then like a real gentlemen, he held out his hand for her to place hers. She did and he kissed it gently and it was like being kissed by ice. Gentle, and so very cold.

A shiver ran up her spine, but it was not from the cold. He led her forward for a moment, into a clearing where other figures made of ice stood waiting. They all watched her as if she was the key to their dance. Her gentleman made a motion, offering her to dance. She had never waltzed before, but it was such a romantic notion that she allowed icy fingers around her hand and waist. He led to silent music, and like a music box full of dancers, as soon as she and her gentleman started, so did all the other ice figures.

She laughed and danced and forgot that prom had been a disaster. She forgot that Jamie Bennet still did not know she existed. All she cared about was her gentleman.

It took her a long moment to spot the boy that stood out and yet blended in with the ice figures. He stood off to the side of the clearing, a cloak made of snow and ice and eyes like a breathless morning sky. She remembered him from a childhood memory that felt like a dream.

He walked among the ice figures as they danced. They did not react to him or seem to see him at all, and yet he walked among them as if he commanded them. They ignored him and yet seemed all to aware of his presence among them. He reached her and her gentleman dissolved into delicate little snowflakes. The boy made from winter itself replaced him so effortlessly that she never noticed the loss of her gentleman. But that was mostly because she realized that this boy had been her gentleman the whole time.

They danced to silent music for a long time. It felt like forever and only seconds. She had to return to the main area, or chaperones would start looking for her. Her and her gentleman did not exchange any words. They let the silence of the snow falling be message enough. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on his frozen cheek. She did not look to see his stunned expression, or the purple blush that crept across his face. She did not need to, she already knew. She went back to the party, imagining how jealous Sophie would be when Cupcake told her that she had danced with Jack Frost.

_Afterword: I should not write at four in the morning. It's a very dangerous endeavor that threatens to kill me. I've started posting scraps for this story, which are chapters I start but don't finish, on Tumblr. So, yeah. More stuff that will probably never be posted here because they're shitty is over there. I'll stick a link in my profile, eventually._


	36. Silent Comfort For Silent Tears

_Set right after the movie. Requested by LaZy-RaIn-DaNcEr and a guest._

Sandy could feel sadness in the snow. He'd learned how to tell Jack's mood just by the snow fall. If they were big and gentle, he was happy. If they were small and sharp, he was upset. Right now, he was upset. Not only could Sandy see it in the snow that mingled with his sand, but with how cold the night air was.

What Jack was even doing hanging around Berlin was beyond Sandy, but the weather screamed his influence. He let off one last wisp of sand and set out to find his winter child. He had not been a Guardian for very long, but the others had grown undeniably attached to him. He was like a child, their child. They wanted to protect him and make him understand that he did not have to be alone anymore.

Jack's lone wolf streak was still a mile wide, but Sandy could not honestly blame him. Three hundred years of being alone and none of them could expect Jack to be ready to open up to them very fast.

It did not take long for him to find Jack. All he had to do was follow the frost. He found him sitting cross-legged in the air staring into a window. The warm lights from inside the house reflected off of his pale skin, giving him a warm look. Even from a distance, Sandy could see the sadness that radiated from him.

Sandy floated down next to him but Jack only gave him a greeting glance before turning his head back to the window. There was a family inside, all of them huddled together in front of a fire. A mother, a father, and two children, a boy and a girl.

Sandy frowned and made a few snowflakes from the sand, pushing them in front of Jack's face. Jack, to his credit, tried. He finally turned to regard Sandy, smiling as he tweaked one of the sand flaked with his finger. The smile on his lips did not reach his eyes.

Sandy's frown deepened and he made a question mark over his head.

Jack's smile dropped. He knew better than to think he could fool Sandy. It was the quiet ones that were the most observant, after all. "I guess I just… wish I could have been there for them." He turned back to the family, wiping away some of the frost on the window that his presence created.

Sandy understood. Jack missed his family. Sandy left his cloud, and moved closer to Jack. He could feel the winter wind beneath his feet and trusted it to hold him. They both cared for the winter child, after all, and Sandy was there to help. He put one small hand on the crook of Jack's staff and the other on his head. He ignored the way Jack froze. He'd been weird ever since his miraculous save with Jamie about others touching his staff and he'd always been weird about people touching him in general. Sandy did not move until he felt Jack relax. Then he threaded his fingers through snow white hair.

Jack relaxed and let Sandy give him silent comfort. The master of dreams knew that Jack mourned his family. He also knew that the winter spirit did not know what to do with himself in a family situation.

They sat and watched the family for a while. Sandy did not know when Jack had started crying, but a wet sniffle brought him from his thoughts. He looked down at the boy. A few stubborn tears had streaked silently down his face. Sandy moved to hug the boy and Jack suddenly clung to him as if he were a ray of sunlight in a storm. Jack did not sob, he did not shake or tremble. He merely held on to Sandy as he rode out the waves of his emotions. The snowfall did not change, it was still small, sharp little snowflakes. In time they would become the intricate, delicate shapes that Jack took so much pride in. In time, Jack would stop being sad about the family he lost, and start to cherish the family he had gained.

_Afterword: Shorter than usual, but I liked it a lot. There's a link in my profile to my tumblr. Okay, so the snowflake thing is inspired by greenglassghost. I hope you don't mind me using that, darling. The rest of you should go read her(dunno if an actual her or not…) stuff because it is really awesome. LaZy-RaIn-DaNcEr requested a cute little Jack and Sandy moment and a guest requested that jack mourn for his family. I have so many requests to sort through that I'm starting to merge them to make it a little easier for me. I hope you guys are okay with that, and I hope you all enjoyed._


	37. Shirtless Scuffle

_Set after the movie. Follow up on 'Mannequin Manhunt". Requested by ZombiekillerLevi._

Jack was not even sure when Bunny had gone into the laundry room. All he knew was that when Phil returned with his hoodie it was most defiantly not the same color as it had been before. Jack baulked at the yeti, whom had an equally perplexed look on his furry mug.

Jack's hoodie was a swirl of purple and pink. It smelled of egg dye. There was really one culprit unless the Purple Elf had gotten washed too, but Phil would have told him about that.

Jack always had Phil wash his hoodie when he needed it. The yeti did not ask awkward questions as to why Jack's three hundred year old blouse had random blood stains, or why he looked so frail and thin without his jacket. The yeti just accepted it and moved on.

"Take it back, wash it again," he told the yeti with a sigh.

Phil made a noise of irritation, but Jack knew that it was not directed at him, but at a certain pooka. Jack refused to leave his room without his hoodie. He did not want to risk the others seeing him and freaking out over something that was only going to be a big deal to them. But Jack was also not going to give Bunny the satisfaction of seeing him in a pink and purple hoodie. The nickname 'Twinkle-toes' would never die after that.

The yeti was examining something on the collar when the all too familiar sound of Bunny's huge feet could be heard on the landing. If Jack could get any paler, that was the moment. He rushed to his door, slamming it shut. He knew that it had echoed by the way Bunny laughed aloud on the other side.

"Aw, come one, Frostbite. Let me see."

"Go away!" Jack cursed his voice for the slight break. Bunny was paranoid by nature. If he figured that Jack was nervous for other reasons, then he would stop at nothing to break the door down.

Jack had to think fast. Which was the lesser of two evils: having the Guardians nitpick over his health or having Bunny have the satisfaction of finally getting him back? As much as his pride hated him in that moment, he would rather just have Bunny have his laugh.

He could not put on the hoodie with the blouse or it would turn the blouse pink. He would not stand for that because he would not be able to wash it out. The blouse would fall to shreds within seconds. He took off the blouse, ignoring Phil's indignant sound and reach for the hoodie.

Phil was not having it. He was not planning on giving the hoodie back until he had fixed it, and he did not seem to understand the dire situation with Bunnymund right outside. He jerked it away from Jack's reach, throwing the discarded blouse off to one side in his attempt to play keep away with the winter spirit.

"Give it back, you lump of fur!"

If Bunny ever made another comment about Jack's curiosity being the death of him, he would personally freeze the pooka's head to the ceiling. Jack heard the door open, and a strangled sound come from Bunny. At that point, Jack had tried to literally climb over Phil to get at the dyed hoodie, and Phil had one claw wrapped around Jack's knee to try to pull him off. They both froze when they noticed the Easter Bunny standing in the doorway.

Distantly, Jack had the feeling that this would sound like the beginning of a bad joke when they tried to explain it to the other. The Easter Bunny, Jack Frost, and a yeti all walked into a room…

In the momentary distraction, Jack tried to make a desperate grab for his jacket, feeling terribly exposed without so much as his blouse on. Phil yanked at his leg, pulling him down and standing up in the same instance. Jack was suddenly disoriented, but when he recovered, he was hanging upside down from where Phil still had him by the knee. The silence in the room was replaced by an obnoxious snort. It seemed as if the pressure in Bunny's head had finally exploded and the pooka fell over laughing.

Jack struggled for a moment, only for the yeti to drop him on his head in a graceless pile. They exchanged glares and Phil marched out of the room with his hoodie slung over his shoulder and a triumphant swagger in his step.

Bunny seemed to recover his wits as Jack righted himself and reached for his blouse. His face felt warm and he knew he was probably purple with a blush. Bunny was suddenly behind him, a warm paw wrapped around his bony shoulder.

"Do you ever eat?"

Jack gave him an angry look as he pulled the ancient shirt over his head and adjusted the laces on his chest. He still felt naked, but it was a little better. "No," he answered simply. "I don't need to."

"But you can." Bunny looked a little alarmed, but seemed unable to really express it.

"It won't matter, I won't fatten up any." He knew his tone was sharp as he pushed past Bunny to retrieve his staff by the window and to open the glass. He needed to go ask Tabe what the groundhog had said to him since the lazy little rodent had a knack for lying to the winter spirit. And besides, he suddenly did not want to face all the awkward questions that he knew was coming.

Bunny just frowned. "Yer not actually mad, are ya?"

Jack almost said yes, but in reality, he was not mad. Irritated with the pooka, yes, but not mad. "No," he sighed after a moment of making Bunny squirm.

Bunny smirked. "You don't want me to tell the others about…" He made a motion to Jack's torso.

The winter spirit hated looking at himself in the mirror because he knew he looked terrible. He knew that his shoulders jutted out sharply and that his ribs could easily be counted with his finger. So Jack shook his head mutely. "You know how they'd react."

Bunny sighed and smiled a little sadly. "Still don't get it, do ya? It don't matter how ya look, Jack. We're not gunna kick you out just because you're a skinny mini."

Jack snorted and hoped that that would not catch on as a nickname. 'Skinny mini' was almost worse than 'Twinkle-toes'. "No, that's not it."

"What then?"

"I-I don't want you guys to worry about me. I've always been small."

Bunny shot him a look. "Jack, it won't matter if you're as healthy as a horse. We'll still worry about you. That's our job now, y'know? As a family."

Jack rewarded Bunny's effort with a smile. "You still won't tell them, right?"

The pooka rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll keep my yap shut about it." What were brothers for but to keep secrets, after all?

Bunny still never let Jack have the end of it. The others learned all about Jack and Phil's scuffle and how the yeti had manhandled him effectively. North had found it hilarious, despite Jack's excuse that his staff had been across the room. The story quickly became the stuff of legends and Jack's fear about it becoming a bad joke came true, of course. But he was relieved to know that Bunny had kept his promise.

_Afterword: The ending was not being cooperative. So sorry if it seems crappy, but I've revised it about five times and I just don't know what to do with it._

_There is no need to remind me about requests. I have them all written down and I consult them daily. If I have not done yours it is not because I have lost it or forgotten it. It is not because I hate you and don't want to do it. It is because I don't know __**how**__ to do it. Those scraps I throw onto tumblr are pretty much what happens when I try to force myself through an idea. It's doesn't work and I end up hitting my head against a wall. I will do your request eventually, I swear. I just need to find the right mood and inspiration for it. Gage39, one of those scraps is yours, in case you need proof that I was trying. I like your request and will do it better, just not right now._

_Okay, now that that is out of my system, I hope you all enjoyed! I borrowed Hatsu Yukiya's Jack-is-really-small headcanon because I thought it was brilliant and fit right in, so thank you darling. _


	38. The Science of Magic

_Set after the movie. Some more from the Forever arch, but it's not really a continuation. I know someone requested some stuff like this, but I lost who it was._

"You've been quiet this whole time," Jack reminded him softly.

Jamie looked up from where Sammy and Nikki were playing in the yard. "Just thinking. That's all."

"What're you thinking about?"

The man looked at the frost spirit to his left. He'd never really noticed how small Jack was until now. They both sat on the porch swinging bench, but Jack's legs swung freely under him as he used his staff to rock them both. "You," Jamie answered simply, studying his old friend.

Jack made a face that Jamie could not quite identify. "Why me?"

"Thinking about things that I never could have understood as a child."

"Hmm? Like what?"

"Like… Magic. It's science that we don't understand yet. So I'm just trying to puzzle out what you could possibly be."

Jack looked away from him and to the child and dog. He was quiet for a long time and Jamie was not sure he was actually going to answer. "Maybe I'm a mass hallucination," he finally said quietly.

"What?"

Jack suddenly perked up, looking a little excited. "Think about it! Maybe I'm a mass hallucination. All the kids see me because of something in their brains. Something with chemicals and science-y stuff."

Jamie laughed. "If you're a mass hallucination, then why do you look the same to every child? Wouldn't you be different for everyone?"

"Yeah, and what if I am? Every time I get described by humans, I always have white hair and blue eyes. So if everyone told one child that I have brown hair and eyes then I would look like that to them."

"If so, then you would not have changed since the last time I saw you, and yet you have new clothing," Jamie replied, gesturing to the snowy cloak draped over the back of the bench and old timey blouse that Jack was wearing.

"The blouse is the same, the hoodie got ruined," he replied. "You've grown up, Jamie. It wouldn't be a stretch for you to come up with something that would make me change."

"But I did not know until just now that you were wearing the shirt under the hoodie."

"Technically it's a different blouse, but it's made from what was left of the one I died in."

"That's another thing that puts holes in your theory of mass hallucination. You have sentience and a back story. You've had a life and a personality. Those things can't be transferred but through you, so you can't be a hallucination."

Jack was thoughtful for a moment. "Ever heard of Tulpai?"

"What? No, what are they?"

"They're like imaginary friends except sometimes humans don't outgrow them. They can be as real as any of us. But they're restricted to one person, so I guess you're right. What else could I be?"

"I don't know, I was thinking maybe an alien? Or another sentient race on the planet that only children are aware of. And what about the weather. You can influence it."

"That could very well be chalked up to an illusion as well."

"Why are you trying to disprove your existence?"

"I'm not, I'm just thinking."

"Well, what about all that time you spent invisible? What good is a hallucination if no one sees it?"

Jamie almost swallowed his words. Sixteen years was a long time for a human, but for Jack it was a mere blink in the last three hundred. Jack frowned, his eyes darkening as he looked to the horizon. There was a clearing storm over the west and the sun was setting through silver clouds. Jack was silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, you didn't. For a long time, Jamie, I did not know what the hell I was or what I was supposed to be doing."

Jamie had never heard Jack curse, so he was a little surprised. "But you found out now."

"Yeah, but it still hurts to be alone sometimes." He was quiet again and the two of them stared at the horizon.

Jamie sometimes forgot that Jack was older than him. Sure, he looked like a kid, but he had more life experience than Jamie could ever hope to have. "What's it like?"

"Hmm?"

"Being that old? What's it like watching the world change?"

Jack seemed in a thoughtful mood, chewing on the question for a long time. "Sad. And happy, I guess. It's hard to fall in love or make friends because they get old and grow up." He looked over with a sad smile, nudging Jamie's shoulder lightly. "They stop believing in you."

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. I was supposed to protect you and I wasn't there."

"They were just bullies. I should be ashamed that I let them get to me."

"I still should have been there."

"You're over thinking this."

Jack actually laughed at that. "Says the man that is trying to figure out the secrets to my existence."

It was nearly dark now and the evening chill was setting in. "I should go make dinner," Jamie finally broke the silence. "Want to stay? I'm making stew."

"Nah, eating is a habit I'm trying not to form."

Jamie shot him a look and Jack waved him off. He flouted off the bench, landing on the wood deck as light as a snowflake. He pulled the cloak off the back of the seat and in a flourish of motion, wrapped it around his shoulders. He clicked the clasp on the front and pulled up the hood. "I should be off, anyway. I gotta go make sure that lake is solid as a rock. Don't want anyone else falling in."

The awkward conversation was leaving a sour taste in Jamie's mouth. He stood and wrapped the smaller boy into hug. Jack stiffened like the first time Jamie had hugged him, but he relaxed and returned it. Jamie pulled away and the two looked at each other for a long moment, both unsure of what to say.

"So, um… Maybe I can come for dinner when you guys make something like pizza. I can't really eat soup."

Jamie felt a little silly at that. They were making soup tonight to warm up. Jack was the very epitome of cold. Logic said he would like colder dishes. The man grinned. "Of course. Just give me a shout out."

Jack smirked. "I'll take you to Santoff Claussen one of these days and have the elves cook for you. You will never want to leave after that."

"I thought there were rules against people going to magical hideouts," Jamie replied, thinking back on a conversation they had had what felt like a million years ago.

Jack's smile only turned wicked. "There are rules against _children_, but not a single one against adults." Without waiting for Jamie to formulate a reply, a cold wind rushed past Jamie and picked Jack right off the ground and tossed him into the air. The man lost the winter spirit in the growing darkness as he called Sammy in for the night.

_Afterword: I did not mean to sound so terse in the last a/n, guys. It was just the way it came out. Sorry about that. I swear someone requested Jack and adult Jamie, but for some reason I managed to lose who it was. Or maybe I am imagining things and no one requested it. Oh well, here you go anyway! Tulpai, or Tuplas are a real thing. Look it up, It's pretty cool, actually. _


	39. A Gentle Whisper

_Set before the movie._

He thought he had control for a moment. There was just a split second when everything was perfect. He spun in just the right way, just the right angle. He was rushed up into the air, the wind flowing across his skin, blasting his face, ruffling his hair. The ground was so far away, stretched out in an empty expanse. All of it was his and for a moment it was perfect.

Then suddenly he was dropping like a stone. The whispers of the wind caught at his ears, tugging and pulling, trying to push him into the air. Jack had lost control of himself. He tried to call the wind to him, tried to tell it to swell beneath him, catch him as he fell.

The ground rushed up to meet him and he closed his eyes. Waiting for the moment when he hit the ground and all the air was driven out of his lungs.

Like an angel's voice on the very threshold of his hearing, he caught it. The sound of the wind, the whispers, ever gentle upon his ears. The wind swung him back up into the air and he tumbled for a moment, but he ignored it. He listened instead, focusing every ounce of his concentration on that voice at the very edge of his awareness. It told him what to do, told him how to spin and turn, where to put his feet and when to leap or fall limp.

And he was in the sky again, the whispers in his ears. The wind tugged at him, floating him above the world in his bubble of peace. It pleaded to be set free, to rush down among the grass and melting snow. It asked him to fly with it.

He set his mind to the whispers in the air around him, concentrated and yet cleared his mind of everything except what to do next, how to move and when.

The wind swept down onto the field, carrying Jack with it at a speed the frost spirit never thought he could reach. He tumbled and spun, but never lost his orientation. He let control slip through his fingers and allowed the wind to take him where it wanted.

It rushed through the grass and flowers and snow, taking petals and snowflakes with it. They rushed around him, circling and spinning like him. It was not quite a realization, it did not come to him after a long moment. No, Jack just knew. He did not ride the wind, he did not control it. He was the wind and the wind was him. He let it spin him like a snowflake, following the gentle whispers that eased the terrible sadness and put rest to the ache of loneliness inside him. He followed their lead, never forgetting to listen.

Maybe that was why Jack was the wind's favorite. Because he listened to their calls and never tried to control them. They were the spirits of freedom, they could not be controlled. But it seemed that Jack was the only one that ever seemed to know that.

_Afterword: This started out as a request, but turned into something else. I do think someone mentioned wanted more stuff with the wind. I was planning on doing a very specific request but then I made the mistake of listening to the Flower soundtrack. And then it turned into Jack's first understanding of the wind._

_So, anyway. Next chapter is the forty! Already. I feel like I just wrote thirty. Anyway, I just want to let you all know that I love you all and hope you will not get mad at me for trying to hit you with frying pans. Till next time!_


	40. Grief Overflown

_Set after the movie. Beware of frying pans. : )_

One by one, they all try to run. One and two, they forget what is true. Two and three, they will never get free. Three and four, all to settle a score. The fifth stands alone, grief overflown.

A smile in glee, malice, and blood. Sharp like razor wire and death and _fear_. It was so pungent, even Bunny could feel it. He could smell it and it left a sharp taste in his mouth.

He dodged a fearling and got ready for it to swing around at him, but it never came. It was like the little buggers had gotten smarter since last time. It had only been eleven years since they had defeated Pitch. Not nearly enough time for him to be full strength, but Bunny would be lying if he thought they weren't trouble right now.

He was afraid. He would never admit it aloud, but he was well and truly terrified. He felt like he was moving much faster than he thought he could, trying to get at the limp form hanging from a tree. It felt like no matter how fast he moved, Jack was always somewhere else. He was not moving, was not responding.

_You're going to let him die like you let all your people…_

"No!" He refused. He refused to let the little whisper taunt him. He could not be distracted, he had to get at the winter spirit.

_Battered and broken, he's already dead, _it sang at him.

He was almost there, he could see the bruises on Jack's face from here. He turned to deal with another fearling, but it dodged him boomerang and plowed into his side. He felt something inside him crack, all the air driven from his lungs. He rolled across the ground, coming to a stop in the snow. He tried to breath but it hurt too much.

He staggered to his feet, looking around the tree line for Jack. He was nowhere to be found and Bunny's vision blurred sickeningly. "Jack," he called, desperate. Fear was crawling up his throat, making him sick and weak.

He spun, still trying to look for the boy, only to find Pitch standing behind. His smile was like razors cutting into Bunny's soul. Pitch knew he had won. It was the last thing Bunny saw before he was swallowed by darkness and screaming and pain.

* * *

One of her wings was refusing to move. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. But it did not hurt nearly as much as her heart. Pitch had showed up in her palace and had dumped a limp and bruised Jack at her feet. He smiled sweetly at her before evaporating in a cloud of sand. It made her cough and gag, but it was nothing compared staring down at Jack's corpse.

He did not breath, he did not move. His skin was not white like snow, but grey with death. His lips weren't even blue anymore. His eyes were wide with fear and they stared endlessly up at the sky that had once been his playground.

Then Pitch was beside her again, his laugh cutting into her and making her scream in rage and pain. She struck out at him, but he was expecting it. He caught her little fist in his massive hand, a smile like death as he leaned down closer to her. She tried to back away, tried to call her fairies to her but she was too stunned to move. She was paralyzed.

"You really think that if Bunny failed to stop me, that you could?"

A flourish of darkness and sand deposited a limp furred body beside Jack's. His fur was matted with blood and his paws oozed the stuff. His pack was torn, his boomerang missing. He was the picture of death and her heart stopped in her chest.

Where were her fairies? Why weren't they here to attack Pitch?

_They're gone, he killed them. You failed. You failed Jack, you failed Bunny, you failed your fairies. You've failed the world…_

She struck out again with the hand that Pitch was not crushing with his hand. He dodged out of the way of her blow, turning to sand. She spun, knowing his usual tactic of trying to get behind his enemy. He seemed to have anticipated her again. A sharp pain that blocked out everything raced up through her back. Her vision whited out for a moment and when the world came back her right wing was bent and crumbled and she could not even move it.

She turned on the ground, trying to see Pitch, but he was gone. She crawled over to Bunny and Jack, tears streaming from her eyes. How could she let him do this? How did she not see this?

_You are selfish. You spent too much time pruning your own feathers to see the danger as it came._

She cupped Jack's face, pristine and spotless and so utterly still. A sob wrenched itself out of her, wracking her body and broke her from the inside. How could this have happened? Jack had been with her only a few hours ago. He had laughed and played and been so full of life. What she would not give to have that back.

She went to Bunny next. His shoulders and neck were covered in lashes and cuts and the fur was wet and matted. He petted the print on his forehead, running the soft fur beneath her fingers. He was gone. Impossibly still and cold. The last pooka to ever exist and now he was gone, all the wisdom of his people gone with him.

She felt a chill race up her spine and she turned to find Pitch again. Fear shot through her. He leered down at her and she knew that she was going to die as well. She closed her eyes, held on to Bunny and Jack as she accepted her fate.

* * *

Sandman was the master of dreams. He made good dreams and he allowed for the passage of bad dreams on occasion. Without the bad there was no such thing as good.

But Sandy was the epitome of good dreams, and yet he felt like was in a nightmare. Everything was falling apart and he had no idea how to fix it. Pitch was there, smiling in triumph and glee. So was Bunny, limp and broken. Jack, bloodied and still. Even Toothiana, her feathers in all disarray.

He did not need to be close to them to know that they were dead. Pitch had done something. Sandy felt his world crumbling. The sand did not heed him anymore, it only swirled and fell limp. He tried to pick it up, tried to fight back against Pitch, but he just could not find the will. Not with three of his family strung up by fearlings like corpses to be hanged.

Pitch knew that Sandy was too stunned by what he saw, but he did not move in to attack. He flouted behind the corpses on a cloud of black sand, a smile on his face the curled his lips over his teeth. He never moved, only hung them in front him, taunting. He showed them to Sandy like a child proud of a painting. The darkness was practically curling in excitement.

Pitch had won.

Anger like nothing Sandy had ever felt before raced through him. It boiled up from someplace that Sandy never wanted to see ever again. His sand swirled and bubbled up from the ground, lashing and cutting the air.

He almost struck at Pitch, almost. But he stopped.

_That would make you no better than him. He is a murderer. Do you want to be one too?_

No, Sandy did not. The sand dropped, losing all form and scattering in the wind. Sandy felt hollow, broken. He heard Pitch laugh, felt the black sand lap at his feet. He let it take him.

_You failed them and now you must be punished._

Sandy did not look from the bodies of his family as the black sand consumed him and he fell into darkness.

* * *

North had been tossed like a rag doll. That was saying something considering his size. He tried to right himself in the snow but everything hurt. A groan fluttered past his lips. He could not quite breath.

Failure. It echoed in his head, swirling and screaming and demanding. He let out a breath, the air was so cold. It stole his breath as much as the pain.

He moved stiffly to his feet, swiping at the closest fearling with his sword. Only to stop when it met flesh and not sand. He stumbled back, his eyes wide.

Jack's eyes were wide with terror and shone with pain. The sword had hacked at his side, tearing through his hoodie and skin like paper. Dark red gushed around the blade as North let the handle go. No, this was impossible. He'd been a fearling just a moment ago.

But North could never deny that the terror and pain in breathless blue eyes seemed real and it struck his paralyzed.

"N-North-" Jack sputtered, falling toward him. "W-why?" He looked so confused, his awareness was falling from him. "Why did you kill us? What have we done?"

Us? North caught the boy as he fell, the sword falling out of him and landing in the stained snow. North looked over him to the other fearlings he had destroyed. His heart stopped in his chest. No, they were not fearlings. They were the others.

Tooth lay crumpled in the snow, dark red spreading out from her and staining the white snow. Bunny was limp against a tree, eyes wide as they stared endlessly up at the tree line. Sandman was nowhere in sight but gold sand littered the snow like he'd fallen apart. Jack was twisting and coughing in his arms, clinging to his coat.

"Jack-I-"

Jack was stilling, falling limp. His eyes glazed over but he gave one last sad look to North before he was gone.

_You've killed them. They are all dead because of you. What have you done?_

No, it was impossible. How could this have happened? How did Pitch…

Pitch! He had done this. He laid Jack back into the snow, his eyes still watching him, even in death. North staggered to his feet, picking up his bloodied blade. He felt sick but ignored who's blood it was that stained the steel. He needed to focus.

And suddenly Pitch was right behind him. His laugh sent chills through North. He swung, slashing madly at the shadow. Pitch had been expecting it. He laughed again and glided away. North readied himself for an attack but it never came. Pitch remained at his safe distance, smiling like razor wire.

"Look at what you've done." Pitch spread his arms to gesture to the whole scene around them, nearly bouncing in glee.

_You've killed them. They're dead. This is your fault. You killed your only family. You are a monster. You don't deserve to die, you don't deserve to live. You have nothing._

North felt the strength drain from him. Grief and guilt warred inside him. He could not look at Pitch, he could only look at what he had done.

_This is not his fault. This is your fault. You should have been able to tell the difference. They were your family. But now they are dead. __**This is your fault, you monster.**_

He shuddered, his blades falling from his hands and into the snow.

_Give in, let him beat you. You deserve to be beaten for what you've done. __**This is your fault.**_

He dropped to his knees. He had no fight left by the time the darkness came to claim him.


	41. Suspension of Disbelief

_Part two of the Frying Pan arch._

Between the stone where the flowers grow, markers sit in a gentle row. One, two, three, and four; clean stone and not a ribbon tore. A family held, all sorrow dispelled. But that is all gone, four lives withdrawn. The fifth is left in bitter grief, held in the suspension of disbelief.

It was a nightmare. This all _had _to be a nightmare. It was not possible. This could not be real.

Pitch had left them on his lake.. All four of them. They all laid in a perfect row, deathly still.

Jack turned his eyes to the nightmare king, trying to calm his heart. This was a lie, a nightmare. Anything but what it looked like. "What did you do?"

Pitch's smile widened, showing Jack razor teeth and too much glee. "Haven't we gone over this before, little boy?" He turned his head, leaning down closer to leer over him. The nightmare sand lapped at Jack's feet like water. "You shouldn't be asking what I did, but asking what _you_ did. More specifically, what you didn't do." He leaned away and examined his hand as if bored.

Jack's sky was falling down. His whole world was crumbling to pieces. "W-why?" He could barely whisper. That was all he had strength for.

Pitch looked down at him, malice and anger suddenly echoing across his face. "To settle a _score_," he hissed. He grabbed Jack's chin, forcing the boy to look at him. "I want you to _suffer_, Jack Frost. What better way than to destroy your family? You are alone now, and you always will be."

He let go and leaned away. With one last razor wire smile, he disappeared into sand and darkness. Jack crumpled to his knees on the ice. How could this have happened? How could he have let it happen?

Fat tears welled in his eyes and an all-consuming pain reached up from somewhere inside him. It clenched his heart and lungs in a vice. His eyes never left them as it finally sunk in.

They were gone. His family was dead. He was alone.

The forest was quiet. As still as death. Jack crawled forward on the ice, leaving his staff where he had dropped it. It did not matter. Nothing mattered in that moment. Because they were gone. He stopped at the foot of all of them, too afraid to get any closer.

He shuddered in on himself, hunching down. He buried his face in his hands and tried to remember how to breathe. For one terrifying moment he knew nothing, felt only pain. A cry wrenched itself from him. It broke the silence that surrounded him. It broke him from the inside, ragged and cutting and painful. He did not know what else to do but scream as his world crumbled.

"Bring them back," he hissed at the moon, his voice cracking and breaking. "Why would you do this to me? I thought- What have I done wrong?" He begged. He stopped breathing for a moment, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat and the pain that gripped his chest.

He exhaled and it came out a little panicked. He lifted his head and glared at the moon, big and bright and _silent._ "Bring them back!" he screamed, breaking off into a broken sob. He scrambled to his feet, slipping on the ice. He picked up a chunk that had loosened and threw it at the moon. "Bring them back," he sobbed.

His legs no longer held him. He collapsed again, keening and crying and _pleading_ for them to come back. "I can't be alone anymore. I can't-" He broke off, gasping for breath. He crawled forward again, trying to get closer to their bodies. "I can't take the silence anymore. I don't want to be alone. I- I'm sorry."

He reached for Sandy. He needed to see him, to see how Pitch had hurt him. He knew that his frozen snowflake was in Sandy's hair. It was always in Sandy's hair. The master of dreams never went anywhere without it. He was gentle, tears still leaking from his eyes. But he felt better with a task now.

He threaded his finger through Sandy's coarse hair, but he found no snowflake. His breath caught and he felt panic swell beneath the calm he was trying to construct. It shattered the fragile barrier and a soft keen escape him. His search became a little more frantic, weaving his fingers through the coarse tufts.

It was not there, it was gone. "No…" he sobbed, leaning back. His legs curled up in front of him, trying to block out the sight again. He could not look and yet he could not stop. He burned the image of them lying on the ice, frozen in death, into his mind so that he would never forget it. He wanted it to haunt him, so that he would never forget his family, never forget how he had failed them.

A part of him still believed that this was some sick nightmare or a very careful illusion. Maybe even a joke. Bunny could have pulled this on him for trying to paint the egg golems blue.

"This isn't fun anymore, guys," he cried, wanting so badly to believe that they would pop back to life and tell him it was a joke. "Wake up!" His breath hitched and he wheezed, curling up on the ice beside Sandman. "Please," he whispered. "Wake up…"

_Afterword: *smiles evilly* The most amusing part is watching all of you lose your heads. Most of you are wrong, but I won't say much more than that. Thank you guys for all the comments. I made it to 1,000 last night while I was basking in the glory of your pain. Also, with this chapter, we have hit 50,000 words. That's novel length guys! Which means that if I wrote one of my Chronicle novels once a month is would still take me 2.9 years to write it. There's something really depressing about that…_


	42. Heart in a Vice

_Part three of the Frying Pan arch._

Deep sorrow untold, a single heart frozen cold. Four rest in silence, the fifth torn by their absence. His grief unimaginable, his guilt indescribable. The fifth stands alone on the ice, rage and sorrow holding his heart in a vice.

Jack was not sure what to feel. Sorrow was logical, but he was past that. He was not sad anymore. He should have been terrified of the silence. But he wasn't afraid of anything either. His real fear had already come true, all the others seemed so miniscule in comparison. He should have felt sick. And while he did not feel great either, he did not feel sick.

In fact, there was no word for what he was really feeling, and if there was, he did not know what it was. It boiled up from somewhere dark inside him, pushing away the sadness and the grief. It dulled the shock and the horror. It numbed his skin and made everything hurt at the same time. His vision swam with it, black and red covering his eyes. He had never felt this before. Never to this intensity.

A hiss escaped past his lips, pursed so tight that they were white. Knuckles turned even paler as he clenched at his own arms. He was not going to let go, despite the bruises he could feel forming underneath his hoodie. If he let go, he was going to shatter into pieces again. It was hard pulling himself together this much. He screwed his eyes shut, but even in the darkness the image of them were still burned onto his retinas.

He held his breath and released, opening his eyes again to stare at them, still on the ice in a perfect row. Pitch had roughed them up, and Jack had spent the last few hours since he had finally stopped crying to straighten their clothes, fix Tooth's feathers and fold her perfect glossier wings so that they would not be crushed, and even smooth the fur on Bunny's face and shoulders and try to tame Sandy's hair a little.

But that had been a while ago. Now he just sat on the ice again, silent and hollow. He was tired. He had tried to sleep, but every time sleep came to claim him something reminded him that the dreams filled with golden dolphins and snowflakes would be gone forever.

He reasoned that Pitch had taken the snowflake for his trophy. The master of fear loved to gloat. It would not be beyond him to try to take something from them as a reminder of what he had accomplished. His gift to Sandy was now a reminder of his death.

When the thought occurred to him, that was the first moment when he had to stop and hunch down. To hold in everything because that emotion he had never felt before threatened to make him explode.

He pulled the gold snowflake from the hidden pocket inside his hoodie. It was cold and heavy in his hand. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface like he had done a million times before. He would have cried if there were any more tears to cry. Now he just felt hollow and… whatever that emotion was.

He pulled himself off the ice and finally retrieved his staff. He needed to pull himself together. Sitting here was not going to fix anything. He needed to help the baby teeth coordinate themselves while they tried to compensate for their mother being missing. Someone was going to have to herd the eggs when they hatched. And who was going to deliver presents? Certainly not the elves. It made him sick to think about things this way, but life was going to go on. Maybe he could recruit Tabe to help on Christmas and Easter. The summer spirit would like the company. He refused to let their holidays die with them.

Jack felt a little detached, a little listless. He stumbled on the ice a little, using his staff for support. That was the first moment when he realized that there was not a single snowflake in the air. Usually he went out of his way to make sure that it was snowing where ever he was but at that moment, he could not bring himself to care. In fact, he could not seem to care about anything except one thing really.

He wanted his snowflake back. Pitch had stolen it from him, and he was going to stop at nothing to get it back. Jack did not consider himself a killer, but in that moment if his ice _accidentally_ hurt Pitch so badly that he could not function for a very long time, Jack would probably never care.

Pitch would pay for what he had done.

That emotion he could not quite identify boiled up again, and this time Jack embraced it as it engulfed him. It froze his heart, chased away all other emotion. All he felt for a long time was a deep burning _rage._

_Afterword: We're almost done y'all. Then all your answers will be questioned._


	43. Family's Court

_Conclusion to the Frying Pan arch._

The silence that deafens and kills, finally broken by indomitable wills. One, two, three, four stand from the snow, the fifth is taken and tears no longer flow. Nightmares came true, scars a permanent tattoo. But time heals old hurt, taken once again into family's court.

The wind was as angry as he, whipping and lashing around. Ice cut and slashed at the shadows. Jack was maintaining a careful control, but it waned and crested with his rage. He walked through the center of the maelstrom like a demon from hell, the winds and ice ripping and cutting at his skin, but never really hurting him.

Pitch had been backed into a wall, covering his head from the snow and ice that beat upon him with a furry he had never felt before. It suddenly calmed around the nightmare king as he fell into the bounds of Jack's calm pocket. The winds still rushed and howled in rage and pain outside their little bubbles, screaming to tear into the shadow.

Pitch glared at the winter spirit. He had not expected him so soon. He thought he had at least another day to prepare for whatever backlash was coming. The shadow would never admit, not even to himself, but there was a tickle of bitter fear crawling up his spine.

Jack was unearthly, standing before him. The tips of his hair were frozen into wide spikes, his hoodie was ripped to shreds, ice hardening the pale skin beneath into razor sharp edges. His eyes were wild with rage, burning down on Pitch and for the first time in a very long time, the Nightmare King legitimately feared for his immortal life.

"Give it back," Jack demanded.

Pitch had almost not heard him over the winds. He said it so low, as cold as ice. There was not an ounce of the emotion that burned in his eyes.

"Give what back?" he hissed. He smiled, already knowing he was in too deep to ever crawl out. He might as well dig into as many wounds as he could. His lips curled over his teeth, giving the frost spirit a sick sneer. "I can't bring back the dead, Jack."

Jack hissed and for a moment Pitch could actually see the influence of Jack's power keeping the maelstrom away from him as the wind battered at the nearly invisible barrier. It screamed and howled and fought against Jack to rip into the nightmare king. But Jack's control was steely, even as rage flared in his eyes and ice raced across the ground, cutting spikes jutting up from the ground and threatening to impale Pitch.

"Give. It. Back." Jack growled through clenched teeth. He remained rooted in place even as light pulses from where his hand clenched his staff.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about, little boy," he remarked casually. He examined his hand for a second before looking back at Jack. "Who knew that few deaths could drive you so insane?"

Despite Pitch being the one backed up against a wall with a monster howling around him, he did have a huge advantage. Jack was fragile. If he said the right things, the boy would shatter as he had done on the ice. The darkness was already whispering things to his broken mind and Pitch was starting to see the cracks.

"Go ahead, Jack. Kill me. That won't ever bring them back, you know. They're gone. Forever."

He really did not have to say more. Jack cried out, one hand gripping his head as he hunched in on himself as if in pain. The darkness whispered into his mind, and Pitch did not need to hear them to know that they were putting the blame on Jack. They always did that, Pitch knew from experience.

Jack's careful barrier suddenly came down and the wind and ice rushed into the fill the empty space with a howl and pop. Pitch was thrown against the wall as ice tried to impale itself into his skin. He suddenly could not tell if that horrible howling was the wind or Jack or both.

Jack had torn Pitch's lair apart looking for his snowflake. It felt like every time he had thought he searched everywhere, a new shadow was there to be explored. The terrible whispers that echoed in his head had finally stopped to be replaced with the gentle kind words of the wind. The wind never blamed him for anything.

He almost wished he could have asked Pitch, but the nightmare king was pinned to the wall by ice and he had not moved since long before the maelstrom had calmed enough for Jack to see his own hand in front of his face. Jack was not sure if he had killed him or not, but he was not going to find out. Those haunting voices could not be right if Jack did not confirm them. He was not a monster as long as he did not know for sure if he had killed Pitch.

His snowflake was still missing, and Jack pondered if he would ever find it. Likely not, all things considered. Maybe Sandy had taken it with him when he went to where ever immortals went when they died. Jack liked to think they were in heaven, watching over him.

With that bittersweet thought in mind, he left the dark hole in the earth. He had to get to the North Pole and tell the yetis what had happened. As much as he hated the thought of that, he reminded himself that no one else was going to do it.

* * *

There was a groan that echoed in the darkness. Then a light fluttering noise and a gentle _fwomp!_ He could hear at least two people groan. One to his left was male and the one to his right was female. The right was where the other noises were coming from.

But God, everything hurt like he could not believe. He had probably broken a rib or two. He did not even know what was happening really. There was only darkness, even when he opened his eyes.

"North…?" The voice to his right asked timorously.

The one to his left groaned again, then his breath hitched as if in great shock. "Tooth?"

A massive hand suddenly prodded at his side making pain shoot through him. A cry escaped past his lips before he could stop it and the hand withdrew quickly.

"Bunny?" North asked, the same shock echoing in his voice as when he had said Tooth's.

"Yeah, that was me," he grunted.

Tooth had crawled toward him in the darkness and suddenly he had arms wrapped around his neck. North also moved closer, pulling his massive arms around both Tooth and him. Tooth sniffled wetly and North tightened his grip as if afraid they would both disappear.

He whacked at North's arm. "Oi, I think I have some broken ribs and this really bloody hurts, mate."

Both North and Tooth let him go at the same moment and he would have breathed a sigh of relief if it would not hurt so much. North was shuffling beside him, looking for something.

"What is it, mate?"

"Jack and Sandy."

Bunny suddenly shot up from where he'd been lying, ignoring the jolt of pain that assaulted him. The last time he'd seen Jack, the boy had been strung up in a tree.

Something in the darkness glowed gold as Sandy came to as well. His sand rotated around, lighting up the darkness. They were in a room with a high ceiling and a cock-eyed door that looked a little creepy. The whole thing screamed Pitch.

With the Sandy and darkness problem solved, they all exchanged glances.

"He was-" Tooth started and cut off.

"Dead," North finished. But then he pointed a massive hand at the other three. "But so were all of you."

"Pitch probably captured us. He's singled Jack out because he knows that he would have won eleven years ago if it weren't for the Frostbite," Bunny said, thinking out loud for the other's benefit.

Tooth nodded. "I saw him and you, Bunny. You were both dead."

"Pitch probably went back to his root power," North reasoned. They all knew what it was. The sand was more powerful, but Pitch was very good at ensnaring them in his illusions.

"We need to find Jack," Tooth tried to flutter off the ground but one of her wings had been broken. "He's never come into contact with Pitch's illusions like we have."

"I do not think it would have made difference. This time was very convincing," North said solemnly. He had that haunted look in his eyes that made Bunny a tad bit curious.

"What did you see, mate?"

North closed his eyes tiredly even before Bunny had finished voicing his question, as if expecting it. He just shook his head no. It had to have been really bad if North of all people clammed up. He was probably one of the most sensitive men Bunny knew. "We need to find Jack."

The door was easy to break down, the shadows fleeing from the golden sand. Outside the door looked like a snow machine had vomited all over the place. It was made clear nearly immediately that where ever Jack was, he was not here. He had won whatever fight had gone down here.

Pitch on the other hand, was pinned to a wall of a spider web of solid ice. He head was slumped forward, bruises visible even with the shadow over his skin.

Bunny snorted, feeling something between relief, pride, and disappointment. "I think Jack's probably fine. Frostbite beat us to him." He jabbed a thumb at Pitch.

North still had that haunted look in his eyes, but the sight of Pitch strung up like that was enough to earn smiles from all of them. They silently hoped that it had hurt to be thrown up there like that.

* * *

He pulled Phil into North's office, feeling sick. He was so tired, he had not slept in at least three days. He would start hallucinating if he was not careful. He had to be strong for a little longer. He did not have time to be weak or tired. There was too much to do.

Phil made a noise of concern when Jack finally stopped staring at the wall and brought his attention to the yeti.

"Sorry," he rubbed his eyes. He knew he probably looked terrible. "Phil, something's happened…" He shook his head. He should have at least thought about what he was going to say. He looked up at the yeti. "No use beating around the bush," he sighed. "The others are d- gone." He nodded. "They're gone, Phil. Pitch…" He looked down at his own feet in shame.

He was having a hard time breathing, but he was not crying. He needed to be strong. He could afford to lose control again. He swallowed thickly and looked back up at the yeti, not sure what he was expecting to see.

The yeti was gaping, his mouth hung open. He kept making gestures of panic, opening and closing his mouth, but no noise came out.

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered softly. "I'm so sorry." He turned away from the yeti, not able to look at him. He paced away a little, examining something on the wall.

Phil said something in yetish that was something like a 'what now'.

"We keep them alive," he told his friend. "We have to. The children must always believe in them. That's the only way we can truly honor them and their work. It will be the best kept secret in the world." Jack touched the crook of his staff to the wood of the wall, frost racing over the design absently. "We'll need to recruit some of the other spirits. I can get help from Tabe and the other ice spirits. I can recruit the penguins and polar bears. I'm sure they'd be happy to help. The fairies in Tooth's palace are pretty efficient. We just need to train a few to take over Tooth's job. Have someone check in on them periodically.

"Sophie and Cupcake are both artists. They can help us with toy designs and I can deliver presents. You'll need to teach me how to drive the sleigh. I'm sure Rudolph will help with that." His brain was foggy. He hit the palm of his hand to his forehead a few times. "What am I missing? We can't do anything about Sandy. Maybe we can- no…"

Phil suggested winter.

Jack turned to look at him. "What about winter? Oh," he sighed. That was what he was forgetting. He thought for a moment. "Tabe has this thing in his citadel that can transfer his powers to different places. That's how he reaches deserts while it's winter in those regions. We can build one here and all I have to do it sit in it. That way I can still monitor this place while keeping up my duties."

Jack sighed, exhaustion and grief creeping up on him. He needed to rest but he was afraid to sleep. Phil was just staring at his feet, a million emotions racing across his eyes.

"It's going to be a lot of work." He said it more for his own benefit, really. "But we have to do it. For them. We have to keep them alive in the children's dreams. I don't care if my believers stop, as long as theirs don't…"

"Well then," Bunny said from the doorway. "We should get back to work then." He strolled in casually, as if he was not supposed to be dead in an ice coffin or anything.

Jack froze on the spot, his heart stopping in his chest for a second. He whipped around to look at the pooka, even as Tooth, North, and Sandy all squeezed through the door. They looked like they had all been in a fight. Bunny had a bandage wrapped around his torso, Tooth had some clear brace thing on her wing, Sandy had a cut on his forehead, and North had a black eye.

Jack stepped forward hesitantly, his staff clattering to the ground as he reached to touch the pooka's fur. "B-Bunny- How?" Tears welled in his eyes without his being able to stop them. They streaked down his cheek unimpeded. "You're dead-"

Bunny's paws were on his shoulder. Jack could feel his heat easily through the makeshift blouse that he had retrieved upon his arrival to Santoff Claussen. The one he'd been wearing had been practically destroyed with his hoodie. Bunny was so solid and warm and _alive._

A laugh escaped him as North flanked Bunny and silently wrapped his arms around Jack. Tooth came around the other side and Sandy ducked between Bunny's legs. Jack turned his head to look at Phil, just to make sure that the fur monster was seeing what he was. The yeti had slumped against North's desk, looking relieved beyond belief.

Jack held on tightly to whoever he could reach. He couldn't tell if he was holding sand, fur, feathers, or velvet, but he held on anyway. His whole body shuddered as it sank in. They were alive. A sob wrenched itself from him and he buried his face into the nearest mass, not sure who it was nor caring.

"I thought-Pitch showed me-" He stopped and breathed for a minute. "I _saw_ you," he whispered brokenly.

The embrace loosened enough for everyone to look at the sobbing boy.

"What he showed you was an illusion, Jack. It wasn't real," Tooth told him gently, as if telling him the best news in the world. "He all showed us things but none of it was real."

A thought occurred to him, a sickening paranoia settling in his stomach. He looked down at Sandy. "Sandman, can I see your snowflake?"

The little man was puzzled for a split second before he started digging through his hair. He pulled out the little piece of never melting ice, showing it to Jack with a little knowing smile.

It was all the proof he needed. Jack relaxed, accepting what was happening. All of the emotional turmoil caught up to him and he felt numb and exhausted. His vision swam, his balance left him, he crumpled to the ground knowing the others would never let him fall. He gave in to blissful darkness, preying they would still be there when he woke up.

_Afterword: Sorry this was so late guys, it's been a pretty hectic day for me. This is technically a conclusion, but there will likely be a few more shots for this arch. Also, this is a long friggen chapter to make up for the fact that number 40 was shorter. I hope this was satisfactory. You guys were great. Some of you had the right ideas and other were really good at looking at all the details. And each detail and inconsistency was there on purpose. So the Jack they saw when they were defeated was not real. Notice that none of the fake ones move either. They had different injuries each time, too._

_Frying Pan is a reference to a joke/something one of my professors said. "Your just sitting there, happily reading the book then all of a sudden she decides to beat you in the side of the head with a frying pan, covering you in painful emotions right off the skillet. Once you've recovered everyone is dead and your questioning your choices in life." I wanted to try it out for myself._

_I may take a little break. I was not laying off on updates because I wanted to keep you all in suspense but because my life has been getting pretty hectic. Christmas is getting closer so my family is starting to enter panic mode. So yeah, if I don't update for a day or something, that's why._

_Aside from the one-shot requests, I'm thinking of starting a larger story line and giving it its own story. I almost did it for this one, but it would have to be at least ten chapters for me to consider it. I have a few ideas rolling around, but if you guys have some more plot intensive ideas of your own, drop me a pm. They'll likely to be in the same continuum/ take place in the same timeline and universe as Invisible. Unless it's really AU, like high school (which I find really fascinating) or something. Hope you guys enjoyed. Sorry for the long a/n._


	44. Reassurance

_Frying Pan arch._

Jack woke with a terrible jolt and panic gripped his heart and lungs in a vice. He took a shaky breath that did nothing to calm him or drive the darkness in his mind back. His hands came up to cover his eyes. For a long time he did nothing but concentrate on the sound of his own trembling breath.

When he had calmed some he pulled his hands away, noting the way they still trembled. He felt terribly sick in that moment, but not the conventional kind of sickness. He was not nauseous or felt like he melting. He just felt so incredibly weak. It was the kind of exhaustion that settled in the pit if his stomach and curled angrily whenever he so much as thought about moving.

He did not even remember what he had been dreaming about. All he knew was that it had been dark and cold and beautifully sweet. He had heard the voices of the other Guardians, just in the threshold of his conscience. He had remembered reaching out to them, trying to get them to stay but they eventually left him alone in the darkness.

He was so tired of being alone.

He looked around himself. He did not remember going up to his room but he was he was having a really hard time remembering anything that had happened after he had told Phil what Pitch had done.

He sighed heavily and it was like a terrible weight resettled itself on his shoulders. The other Guardians were dead and it had fallen to him to make sure that their legacy continued. He would hold up that self-made promise until the end of his days, whenever that may be.

He had a lot of work to do and not a whole lot time to sit around feeling sorry for himself. It was mid February so that would leave him little less than two months to finish getting Easter ready. He would have to get into contact with Tabe and have him move their annual what-did-the-groundhog-tell-you meeting up to sooner in the year. He would also need the Persian's advice on that conduit building thing he had in his citadel.

That was only the beginning. He had to worry about the tooth fairies too, but he was lucky in that they were relatively efficient creatures. He had no idea what he was going to do about Sandy. If he had had actually managed to kill Pitch, a thought that was becoming less and less scary as time went on, then he would not have to worry about nightmares. Without nightmares, there was not really good dreams  
either.

He pulled himself off the bed. He had too much to be do to be laying around. He shuffled to the door and opened it, coming face to belly with a rather surprised looking North.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Jack blinked slowly, closed the door and closed his eyes. He was really tired. He breathed for a long moment, trying not to have his heart burst from his chest.

With a deep breath he opened the door again. North was still there, looking concerned and cradling a snowy white mass in his arms as well as Jack's staff. Funny how he could not quite remember losing it.

They starred at each other again, this silence stretching on for a lot longer.

"Jack...?" North finally questioned softly.

"Am I dreaming?" Jack shot back nearly immediately.

"No," the Russian replied, unsure.

"Why are saying it like that? Are you not sure? It's a yes or no question. Am I dreaming or not?"

"Why are you unsure that you are dreaming?"

"Last time I saw you, you and the others were-" He cut off, still really unable to say it aloud.

North said something that sounded suspiciously like curse in Russian. With a heavy sigh he stepped forward and made a motion for Jack to go back inside his room. Jack obliged the bigger man and North shoved his way through the door. The Russian man walked to the bed and put down the fluffy white mass and Jack's staff.

"Jack," he started after a long moment. "Pitch is very good at creating illusions. What he showed you was not real. I am real."

Jack approached slowly. "But I saw you-"

North clasped his hands on Jack's shoulders. Surprised, stunned even, Jack shuddered. He was not expecting North to be quite as solid or real as he was. He clung to the larger man like a life line and North brought him into a bone crushing hug.

"What Pitch showed you was not real. I am real. We are all fine and alive."

It was like the flood gates had opened. A near silent sob tore through him, wracking his body from head to toe in trembles. Jack tried to keep himself together but it was useless. He crumbled and North was there to pick up the pieces.

"We are all alive," North reassured gently.

Jack nodded and after a long moment he finally pulled away. He tried to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes but he was sure North saw anyway. The man smiled warmly.

"Will you be alright?"

Jack chewed on the question for a long moment. He knew better than to lie at this point. "Not right now," he answered truthfully. The rest was left unspoken. He would be, given time.

The larger man accepted that answer in good humor. He knew better than to expect Jack to be right as rain so quickly.

With another great smile, North turned back to the bed with a childlike glee shining in his eyes. He reached back and picked up the white fluff on the bed. He held it up for Jack to see.

It was a cloak, similar to his old animal skin cloak from so many years ago. This one was white and had fuzz along the collar and hood. There was a snowflake of the same design as Sandy's.

When Jack did not immediately take it North made a nervous forward gesture. "Your hoodie was missing. So we made you new cloak."

Jack finally pulled his jaw off the ground and accepted the cloak. It was made of soft velvet. It was comfortable beneath his fingers, the fabric cold and soft. The frost from his fingers raced along the hidden avenues in the fabric, creating nearly invisible patterns.

North gently tugged it from his hands and draped it around the smaller boy's shoulders. He beamed, his massive hands never leaving Jack's shoulders.

"This is good," he laughed. "Very handsome. Others will be pleased."

Jack smiled a little, feeling better the more time he spent talking to North. The past experience was still fresh and painful and the current moment still felt surreal. In time, Jack knew things would go back to normal, but for now he would simply relish in having his family back and hoping this was not a dream that he would wake up from. He did not think he could stand to find the nightmare again.

_Afterword: Sorry the huge delay in updates guys. It's still going to iffy for the next couple of days, but I'll try to update for you guys when I can._


	45. Illness

_Set after the movie, before Forever Held._

There was something strange going on in the Bennett house when Jack finally arrived from Oregon. Sammy and a babysitter were in the house but Grace and Jamie were gone. There was a sadness that hung in the air that could not be pierced by anything. It mostly came from Sammy. The four year old fretted and paced. He played with a few toys, but would lose interest far faster than what was normal for him.

Jack stayed near the house, watching as he usually did. Just because Jamie could not see him, did not mean that he would not stop watching over him. Besides, Sammy believed in him.

Jamie did not get home until late. Sammy was still awake and ran to meet his father when the man came in. The babysitter, a young woman in her teens left without taking any money. She kept apologizing for something.

Jamie looked exhausted. Underneath the grey bags beneath his eyes was an undeniable grief that echoed in the silence. Jack hung upside down from Sammy's bedroom window, a place where he could watch the bedtime routine from a safe distance.

Grace was a good mother and a wonderful wife. She would always come and sing her little boy to sleep every night. Her absence was felt like a fresh wound.

"Where's Mama?" Sammy asked once Jamie had him in his pajamas and under the covers.

There was a long sigh from Jamie and another silence. He stared out the window and straight through Jack. Finally, he turned to Sammy with a frown that a smile could never cover up. "She had to stay at the hospital tonight, kiddo."

Sammy sensed the sadness in his father, a frown pursing his lips. "When will she be home?"

Jamie sighed again and patted his leg for the boy to come sit on his lap. "Sammy, Mama is very sick right now. She may not be able to come home for a long time."

The child could feel the sadness, could taste it in his father's words. He was only four, barely on the cusp of understanding these types of things. But in this case, he did. He knew that his mother may never come home.

Fat tears welled in the boy's eyes and a shudder rocked him from head to foot. He crawled into his father's lap and clung to him as he sobbed. Jamie wrapped his arms around the boy and rocked him back and forth. He did not tell the boy that everything was going to be okay, because he did not know that himself. Instead he just held the boy until he fell into a restless slumber.

Jack watched for a while before the wind tugged at his cloak. He flitted back onto the roof, sitting cross-legged on the tiles. Grace was in the hospital? What was wrong with her? Was she going to die?

Jack left them alone. The hospital was not far away; a few miles as the crow flies.

He touched down on the hospital roof a few minutes later, as silent as a ghost. The wind still tried to curl around him protectively, but it recognized that Jack was on a mission. He dropped down to the windows, checking them as quickly as possible until he finally found her.

The room was dim, except for the lights coming from various machines. Grace was on the bed, at still as death. A stone dropped in Jack's stomach. He perched on the window sill, sending ice through the crack to flip the lock. He pushed it open, frost racing out from where his fingers pressed on the glass. He slipped through once the gap was wide enough, maneuvering his staff awkwardly and putting it beside the window.

He approached the still woman cautiously. Even in the dim light, Jack could see the unhealthy pallor of her skin. Her eyes were sunken and surrounded by grey. A rattling wheeze hitched in her chest with every breath she took. He'd seen her like this before, once or twice last year. She had always said it was just a cold. He was careful not to touch her, in case he only served to chill her worse.

"You can't die," he stated firmly. She looked like she was going to die. Jamie was afraid she was. He balled his fists. He would never be heard but his voice never rose above a whisper. "Jamie and Sammy need you. You can't leave them."

He crouched down and moved a little closer so that he was almost within touching distance. He sat and stared at her for a long moment, a distant memory of his own mother echoing in his mind. Long brown hair and the most stunning blue eyes. Her smile was always warm and full and love. Pain blossomed in his chest and he curled in on himself.

"Jamie and Sammy need you," he said again. "I know what it's like not have my mother anymore. I miss her so much. I don't want Sammy to know what that feels like." It did not matter that she would never hear him. He would tell her anyway. "You need to live through this for them."

Anything else he wanted to say was cut short as the door opened. Sammy led the way, running around the bed and stopping as soon as he saw Jack. The winter spirit smiled and stood, covering the pain that still curling in his chest. Sammy almost said something but the sight of his mother through the dim light chased away all other thoughts in the boy's mind. He was at his mother's side in an instant. His small hand curled around her limp one.

Jack retrieved his staff and turned back to the family. They were focused on the woman in the bed. Jamie was still by the door, talking to the nurse. Grace woke when she felt her child near her. A tired smile flittered on her pale lips. Her eyes were glassy but filled with love all the same.

Jack put a careful hand on Sammy's shoulder. "It's going to be okay, kiddo. No matter what happens, everything will be okay."

And with that he escaped out the window. It was not until the next winter that Jack saw the Bennett family again. There was only two people that lived in the house. The hole left behind by her absence echoed like hollow silence that could never be filled.

_Afterword: I finally found out what happened to Jamie's wife. Took a while, but I always knew she wasn't there. Anyway, I'm back from my trip. I had lots of fun. Updates may still be a little sporadic for a while. I made several mistakes. One, I toyed with a larger idea and that's taking some of my inspiration for RotG. Second, I made the mistake of playing Minecraft. I had no desire to until a few days ago. If any of you have ever played Minecraft, you know that that game is horrible and you disappear for a few months because you can't stop playing. The server I usually play on finally came back so now I have that tugging at my brain. I'll try to have one everyday but the two updates a day is getting harder, so that may stop until I possibly own the dvd and can watch it to my heart's content._


	46. Attempts to Understand

_Set after the movie, after the Forever Arch._

"Does it hurt to be walked through?" Jamie asked off-handidly. They stood in the early morning darkness as Jamie collected firewood from the side of the house. "And I don't want that bull answer you gave me as a kid."

Jack flinched a little at the last bit. "What answer were you expecting to get as a ten year old?"

Jamie shrugged. "I understand, but I'm not ten anymore. I want to know the truth about you now, Jack. I realize now all those times I asked you questions you were lying to me."

"I wasn't lying!" Jack's voice broke and Jamie chuckled. "I was toning things down a little. You were a kid. You did not need to know the full realities to my being."

"Like how you were and still are weird about being touched?"

"Three hundred years is a very long time, even for someone who lives forever," Jack replied solemnly.

"You trust me with the truth now," Jamie said with equal seriousness.

"You're older now. You qualify as an adult now, but you do not hold as much sway over my life as the other Guardians do."

"So because I'm not the equivalent of your parent, you're willing to talk to me?"

"You're not _trying_ to be my parent. That's the difference."

"Is that bitterness I hear?" Jamie raised an eye brow at the pale boy.

"Never," Jack said with surprising seriousness. "They are my family and I will never-" He choked off with an odd noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a gasp. He busied himself with pulling wood off the pile for Jamie to chop, his fuzzy hood being pulled up by a slightly trembling hand. Jamie knew that Jack tried to be truthful with him and it often led to far more serious conversations than when he was a kid.

"What happened?"

Jack was silent for a long moment, the only noises were him pulling wood from the stack. "Pitch. A few years ago." His voice was terse and strained. This was not something Jamie would likely hear much about. "He did some stuff. I'll never forget what it felt like to see them- To lose… I-" He huffed. "I'll never take them for granted." He deflated with the last sentence and Jamie understood. Whatever had happened, it was bad and Jack was still trying to get over it.

"It's okay, Jack," Jamie reassured and they both fell silent. "You never answered the question."

"About what?"

"Getting walked through."

"Oh… Yeah, it hurts," he finally replied. "It's like you get blown apart then put back together. It never stops hurting but it does hurt less after a while."

Jamie absorbed that answer and chewed on it for a while. "Did I ever…?"

"No," Jack answered nonchalantly. "I kept a fair distance when I found out you couldn't see me anymore."

Jamie had to give Jack props for being a good liar anyway. "That's not what Sophie said."

Jack gave him a look. "I thought you two weren't speaking still."

It was Jamie's turn to scowl. "I haven't talked to my sister in three years. It was too long."

Jack smiled. "I'm glad you guys reconciled. She was really beat up about the falling out you two had. What was it about, anyway?"

"Whether or not I could take care of Sammy by myself."

"Oh, right."

"I feel like all I do it ask you questions. You never ask me anything," Jamie changed the subject, feeling the conversation take a sour turn again.

"The thing about being invisible to you is that I can watch you do things and have you never know I was there."

Jamie gave Jack a look. "You've been spying on us?"

"I'm a Guardian," Jack replied with a grin. "It's my job to protect my believers."

A thought struck Jamie. "Jack, when Pitch attacked when I was eight, the others kept getting weaker. When they lost believers, they lost their powers too. You keep implying that you still don't have many believers and yet you seem stronger than you were all those years ago. That doesn't make sense."

Jack looked up the moon, a spark of some unknown emotion lighting up his eyes for a moment. "You can't lose believer if you don't any to begin with. I am getting more believers but because I did not have many to begin with, it only serves to make me stronger. It's like a quota system. You have so many believers on average and it fluctuates every decade as kids get older and others are born. If my quota grows I get stronger. If it shrinks, I get weaker. If I don't have one, I fade. Pretty simple, actually." He shrugged and looked back at Jamie. "It takes a long time, even by my standard for belief to be really strong. The others started in the middle ages, for crying out loud. Besides that, it's harder for seasonal spirits to get believers. I was not born like the rest of them so I have a slight advantage but I'm still different from Spirits that have holidays, like North and Bunny."

"What do you mean 'not born like the rest of them'?" Jamie quoted.

"Seasonal spirits are created by Mother Earth. She's also known as Mother Nature, but Terra doesn't really care. She created Tabe, Rine, and Haust. She had created Father Frost and Old Man Winter, who were the winter spirits before me, but the Man in the Moon wanted someone special when they started complaining about being too old to keep shepherding winter. Then I was born. Man in the Moon created me, not Terra. See the difference?"

Jamie shook his head. "Not really. Your world is very different from us. I have no idea who Rine and Haust are."

"Oh. I don't see them often. They're half seasons, while Tabe and I are full seasons. We have a hard time interacting with them sometimes. I don't talk about them often. Rine is the spirit of Spring and Haust in Fall."

"How come you can't interact with them?"

"Tabe and I are stagnant and they are change. It's really hard to explain without showing you. Tabe and I hold steady. I hold sleep and death, he holds activity and life. They are the ones that bring it in and set it up for us to hold. We don't see them because we can only exist in the places they've been but not are at. Tabe and I are the same type of being so we can find a middle ground where we can interact, but it's harder for Spring and Fall because they are so different from us. It's dangerous for us to be within their vicinity because it runs the risks of changing us."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Okay… We are all nature. Just because Man in the Moon created me does not mean that I am not one of Terra's spirits. Rine and Haust have a very specific task of changing nature as seasons change. We are seasons as much as their shepherd. We are a part of nature and thus are susceptible to their magic. So they can change us. Alter our powers to the very core. That is very dangerous because what we do and what we are is the same thing. To change it would kill us. Does it make sense why it's hard to interact with them now?"

"A little…"

Jack huffed and started stacking newly chopped wood into his arms. "Well think of some more questions while I take this inside."

Jamie did not get a chance to reply before Jack marched away.

_Afterword: This is a really big headcanon chapter. I know that some have been asking me to address the issue of his believers, or lack thereof, and this is how I think about it. If that was going to be a problem, wouldn't they have waited for him to have more believers before turning him into a Guardian? People also requested more Adult!Jamie. So there you go. Two chapters in a row! Another is that I think a few people were wondering why I only have a spirit of summer and not the other two seasons. I don't want too many active oc's in this. So Rine and Haust will be __**very**__ rare mentions and interactions if at all._


	47. Of Fish and Hermits

_Set before the movie._

Jack had been following the strange fish man to the best of his ability. It was difficult because he would disappear beneath the ocean and come up somewhere completely different. Thankfully, the wind was having as much fun hunting him as Jack, so it was more than happy to tell him whenever he surfaced.

Jack thought he was being pretty stealthy about the whole thing. His prey did not seem to notice him for a long time. Of course, that assumption was brought crashing down when the wind dropped him out of a jet stream only for him to be sideswiped by what appeared to be a bubble of flying seawater.

It tumbled him right out of the air and into the waves. The waves surprised him considering he was in the middle of the Atlantic and there should not have been any. Every time he came up for air, he was shoved back down. This continued for a moment, panic making Jack grip his staff and lash out with his powers in a random direction.

He heard a cry of pain and several curses in a distinctly British accent. The wave that was about to crash over his head landed on him and bobbed up to the surface. He scrabbled across the ice until it rolled him above the water. He took a few long shaky breaths, looking around him for the source of the attack.

The fish man was floating on his back, shaking his hand which had a nice coating of ice sheen on the scales. He turned gigantic black eyes on Jack and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

"You're weird," Jack said unintelligently.

The fish glared. "And you're annoying. Who are you and why are you following me?"

Jack grinned, the warmth of a simple conversation chasing away the sharp loneliness for the moment. It made him feel giddy and bubbly. "Jack Frost, and because you're weird."

"Stop calling me weird."

"Who are you?"

The fish blinked. "You're asking _me_?"

Jack nodded. "Who else would I be asking?"

"I just figured you'd be hanging out with someone else," he said bitterly. "It's not like you want to hang with bloody _fish_ or anything."

A jolt of understanding shot through Jack. "The other spirits ignore you, too?"

The fish looked at him with his massive eyes but the expression was far less harsh. "What are you? An elf of some sort?"

"Spirit of Winter."

"The new one?" He seemed surprised.

Jack nodded again. "I still don't know who you are."

"I'm Aegir, God of the Oceans."

Jack made a noise. "You're a god?"

"Not really. I just like the title."

Jack laughed and Aegir smiled a little. "Why wouldn't others like to hang out with you? I know why they leave me alone. I freeze everything I touch and the other ice elementals are a bunch of hermits."

"They don't like me because I smell and look weird, I think.

"You smell like an ocean to me."

"Precisely," he harrumphed. He swam forward and heaved himself onto Jack's miniature iceberg. "You don't talk to many people, do you?"

"No. You don't either, huh?"

"No."

There was a silence between the two of them. It was a better silence than before. This one hurt far less than most of the others.

Aegir suddenly turned to him, a big smile on his face. "Have you ever made an iceberg before?"

"No," Jack admitted. His brain was already predicting where Aegir was going and he was starting to like it.

"Would you like to learn how?"

With a smile that could light the sky Jack nodded. "Yes, I would!"

_Afterword: This was a stupid chapter because I'm having a bit of writers block on this. Sorry for the delay, guys. I haven't had any internet except for my phone the last couple of days. Here's hoping for some steady updates. Someone requested more Aegir, but I don't know if they asked for how they met or not. I would have to look through my notes but I'm too lazy._

_I would also like to point out something. This seems like common sense to me, but I'm also writing to a younger audience and it was not until I met someone from Australia that I found this out. When it's summer in the Northern Hemisphere, it's winter in the Southern and visa versa. If you already knew this, than good. If you did not, then there you go. So Jack's job is in fact year-round and he does not get summer off. Granted, he's not working every day of the year, but he doesn't have a whole season of inactivity either. _

_Anyway. Ta for now, folks._


	48. A Friend in the Darkness

_Set before the movie._

Pitch was not expecting him to show up, that was for sure. He had spent so long running away that when he saw the child he nearly startled. Nearly. He would never admit to being afraid. At first Pitch did not recognize him, and had a terrible shock when the boy looked right at him and smiled. There was something in his blue eyes that made him stop and stay. There was a pain that Pitch knew all too well and it hurt him to see it in someone else.

He was about to ask who the boy was but then he remembered. Like a flash, he recalled a time so very long ago, and a winter spirit that protected children. He had tried to kill that boy, but North had gotten in the way and he was unable to. He wondered if the Frost child remembered him. It was not something one was likely to forget, but he seemed unafraid.

"Hello," Pitch said cautiously, unsure as to why Frost was even here.

The boy's smile grew. "Hello."

"What do you want?" Pitch asked. It came out as a hiss that sounded a little disgusted, even to him. That was not intention, but the Nightmare King made no move to correct himself.

Frost looked disappointed. He looked away from Pitch and back to the light of the city far below them. The pain that had been a mere flicker in his eyes came again. His eyes darkened with a streak of negative emotions that Pitch knew all too well. Perhaps the boy was not here to harm him after all.

Frost shrugged. "Just wanted to talk."

"Why?" Pitch was careful to keep his tone emotionless. He was honestly curious now and did not want to chase the child away on accident.

"You seemed lonely."

Pitch snorted in humorless surprise. "What do you know of loneliness?" This boy was probably one of the many lackeys of the Guardians. The Moon had Mother Nature and her children in a tight grasp. This boy was no different.

Frost spoke so quietly that Pitch had to strain to hear him. "I know that no matter how many snowballs you throw, no one will ever look at you. No matter how hard you work to make each snowflake more beautiful than the last, no one will ever know it was you. Most of all, I know that no matter how loud you scream, no one will ever hear you."

There was a few beats of silence where Pitch had to remember how to breathe and keep his balance. He was struck speechless by the raw truth. He knew it so intimately, but never before had another understood what that pain was like.

Frost suddenly looked back at him, a smile bursting forth across his lips and hiding away all of that pain. Pitch had to give him credit for his effort. He appeared to be very good at that trick. "You looked like you could use a friend."

Pitch snorted again, but it was not as sarcastic as the last one. "I do not need friends."

The smile dimmed a few notches but did not go away completely. It looked a little strained, but Frost kept up the effort. "I was hoping you'd want to scare a few people with me."

Pitch was about to tell him to bugger off, but he stopped. He raised a brow at the boy and the smile became a little more real.

"Why would you want to scare people?"

"Because it's fun."

Pitch gave him a speculative look, examining him up and down as if the answers to his unasked questions were sitting on Frost's tattered jacket. He never pegged the child to be a trickster, but then all he had ever seen the boy do was protect a few children. "Why?"

Jack made an exasperated noise but the smile never quite left. "I just told you, silly!"

"No," Pitch waved at him impatiently. "Why are you not afraid of me? The last time I saw you, I tried to kill you."

"I know," he said, the smile never fading in the slightest. "I'm not afraid of you anymore because I realize that you and I are the same. No one likes ice and dark spirits. All they do is call us out for hurting people but never commend us for the people that we help. They don't like us because we're uncomfortable to be around, so they all throw us away like we're some kind of disease." Despite the serene and happy smile, his voice got darker and darker.

"That's quite a bit of insight, boy."

"Took me a while. I sure you already knew that." There was hope in his eyes now. Pitch knew it was hope that he would understand the boy. That he would come play his game because no one else would.

Pitch sighed, a drop of regret settling in his stomach. "I can't help you, boy. Go away. The moment I so much as come within sight of a child, I'll be running from those damn Guardians."

Jack wrinkled his nose in similar annoyance. "I know. That's why we won't be scaring children. We're going to be scaring adults."

An hour later found Pitch laughing despite himself as Jack made a snowman suddenly move, causing some poor woman to scream and jump away in surprise. Of all the things Jack seemed to know so much about, it was how to have a little fun.

_Afterword: Pitch and Jack are too similar to have been enemies forever. Also if they were friends, however brief, it would only serve to give Pitch more reason to be angry at Jack after he sided with the Guardians and served to let Pitch become the bad joke._


	49. A Promise to Break

_Set before the movie. Continuation of 'A Friend in Darkness'._

Jack did not see Sandy until Pitch was suddenly moving. The Nightmare King lunged toward him, closing a massive hand over his mouth to silence any cry that could have issued forth. Jack struggled briefly against the other but he could almost feel the fear in the shadows as they swirled around them both. It was only upon looking to the sky that he saw the dream weaver and the fear that was instilled into Pitch made sense.

Disappointment and such confusion settled in Jack's stomach. Why would Pitch be afraid of Sandy? Sandy was nice, he never ignored Jack or said mean things every chance he got. Not that there was much Sandy could say, but still.

Pitch did not release him until after the Sandman was long gone over the horizon, taking his dreams with him. Jack watched the skyline where he had disappeared before finally looking back at Pitch.

"Why did you do that? Sandy would not have hurt us."

"You perhaps yes. He would have left you alone. He has a soft spot for children, however old they really are. But me? He would have just chased me back into my hole where I belong." There was sadness in his voice. The same sadness that Jack had seen when he first spotted Pitch looking over the small city earlier that night.

"But why?"

"They think the power has gone to my head or some such nonsense." Pitch smiled a little. "Maybe it has just a touch."

Jack frowned. "I think you're just lonely."

"What a wonderful sentiment, boy."

"I'm serious. I think we should be friends. Then maybe they'll see that neither of us are so bad." Jack grinned, hoping and yet knowing he sounded like a child with such false hope that it hurt. But who could dash a child's hopes?

Apparently, Pitch could. "You cannot be truly this naïve. Not with all that insight you were spewing earlier. You want to know the truth, Frost?" His tone was scathing and yet gentle all at the same time and Jack had to wonder how he did that.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I do."

"Alright," Pitched started. "The truth is that we cannot have friends. We are too dangerous for such things. They think us dangerous. That's why they treat us like disease to be thrown away."

"That's not true." Sandy was always nice to him. He just had to remember Sandy.

Pitch raised an eyebrow at him and Jack felt the terrible creeping of doubt. "Jack, how often do they invite you to those celebrations they have?"

"Never."

"Who do you spend Christmas with?"

"No one," he choked.

Pitch's voice lowered to a whisper, gentle and angry. Jack could feel a similar anger bubble inside him. "How many people wish you a happy birthday?"

"None."

"How many people know when your birthday is?"

"No one but me."

"Why?"

"No one has ever asked."

"Because no one will ever care, boy." Pitch sighed and took a step away so that he was not standing so close. "The Pooka says mean things to you. The yetis throw you away. Everyone else ignores you. They would destroy you if it wasn't for your mother."

Jack looked up at him in surprise. "My mother?"

"Isn't Terra-"

"No. I was created by the Man in the Moon."

Pitch seemed surprised by this small bit of seemingly insignificant information. "Now that's interesting," he remarked lowly. "I could have sworn-"

"That Manny couldn't make elementals?" Jack barked bitterly. "Everyone says that. The ask me why, but I don't know because he never told me anything past my name." Jack's voice had steadily gotten louder until her was yelling. He turned angry eyes on the moon, his anger threatening to boil over in the silence that followed his outburst. How could he expect the moon to answer now? It had not whispered a word to him in over two hundred years. Why would now be any different? He felt sick. Not because of the anger, but because of the sudden exhaustion that swept through him.

There was a hand on his shoulder that made Jack flinch. He was half expecting Pitch to cry out and retract his hand as so many others had before him. He tried to hard not to ice people's hands but it was easier said than done. But Pitch did not seem in the slightest put off by the ice ferns that created patterns on the back of his hand.

"You will be angry for a long time, if you have not been already. But eventually that will fade and all that will be left is nothing. You will eventually stop caring, as I have."

Jack tried to smile, but that truth was too painful even for him to cover with his best smile. It only made it worse that Pitch was merely repeating what Jack had already learned. "So is that a no to us being friends?"

Jack was hoping for a laugh from the Nightmare King, but he got was a look of pity. "I'm sorry, boy. I have so many demons on my back. I fear that by being my friend, they would become your demons as well. I do not want that. I would like to let you keep the chance that you will have a better life."

Jack frowned. "But what if I never do?"

"Then we will have all the time in the world."

"And if I do have a better life one day, what about you?"

"All I would ask is that you remember little old me in the end."

Jack nodded, still unable to smile. "I promise," he agreed without an ounce of hesitation. That made the Nightmare King smile a smile that only a little girl that no longer knew him would ever remember.

_Afterword: I hated that Jack and Pitch were in the same position but when Pitch was walked through, Jack did absolutely nothing. This is my reason why Pitch was so adamant to get Jack on his side, because he knew he had a chance to convince the boy. This is also why Pitch targets Jack in the future, because he broke his promise to remember him when his life took a turn for the better._

_Anyway, I'm off to go do other things, I guess… I need some sleep. I find it hilarious that the stuff you write when your sleep deprived looks so great before you go to sleep, but after you wake up you really want to bury it somewhere with a lot of netherrack and obsidian._


	50. Silence of Death

_Set before the movie._

There was a sort of emptiness that held him. A suspension of disbelief, and yet it was so incredibly painful. How could he have let this happen? He shivered, the ice crystals that clung to him jingled and chimed like hollow bells. The sound haunted him.

Something metal and tortured waved in the wind, making a small noise as the cutting tears scraped against each other. The old wood creaked on its broken frame. There were no other noises. No birds or people. Nothing living resided here anymore.

He had chased them all away.

He sank slowly to the ground, the ice crystals shattering or stabbing into the frozen earth. He was so tired. Too tired to cry, too tired to be angry anymore. He scooped up an abandoned doll from the snow. He cradled it gently as if it would break.

Something stirred in his heart. Something ancient that he did not even know existed, as if from another life. It was fear, but not the kind he felt when he was around Pitch. It was a fear of death and all its signs. Death had occurred here and the thing that brought it was still present, despite being unknown, unheard, unseen. It was a fear of loneliness.

It only made it worse when he realized that he feared himself. He had brought the death, he had brought the silence. He could not quell it, nor the horror the realization brought.

He hugged the doll to his chest, pinching his eyes shut. He tried to cry. Then perhaps he would not feel so hollow. Sadness was better than the fear and the horror. Anything was better.

With a sigh that embodied every exhausted fiber in his being, he gave up. His shoulders slumped and he curled in on himself and lay on his side. The cold of the snow did nothing to comfort him. Not with the creaking of the lifeless house, or the sound of the metal flap screeching in the wind. Not with the silence of death, the worst kind Jack had ever come upon, blanketing him like a morbid reminder of his own deeds.

He lay like that for a long time, cradling the doll in his arms. The ice slowly broke with every move he made, but he still felt cold. Not that it would ever make any difference. Even if he could have felt the warmth of a hearth, he still would have been cold.

The phone in the corner suddenly rang, piercing the silence like a javelin. The sound seemed to strike Jack, startling him into a scrambling sitting position. He still held onto the doll as if it were his only treasure as the phone rang for five long, terrible rings.

"No one will answer," Jack whispered to it.

The answering machine kicked in, a pre-recorded message of a male voice by the name of Peter.

The caller's voice came through next. "Hey guys, it's me, Gwen. I've been watching the blizzard on the news and they're saying it's finally starting to clear up for you guys. I'm really worried, they say it was pretty bad. Call me when you get the chance. Please, let me know that you're okay…" She trailed away, her voice echoing in the quiet. There was a long beep that signified the ending, and quiet again.

There was a million things Jack wanted to say, but none of them came out. He was struck speechless. He cradled the doll closer and stood, the rest of the ice crystals falling from his shoulders. He moved closer to the bed, where three lumps could barely be made out. He put the doll closest to the smallest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his head bowed.

With nothing more to say, and nothing left to do, Jack let the wind pull him away and into the sky. He was raced away, physically, but his mind never left the torn house and silent family inside.

_Afterword: I really should not write things while listening to post-apocalyptic music at three in the morning. It's just simply bad for business. I know several people requested Jack dealing with the dangers of his powers and how so many people die and stuff. This is obviously not the first time this has happened, but something like this isn't easily forgettable nor gotten over. So here you go! No specials anymore, simply for the reason that they're annoying and I don't have the inspiration that I used to. I'll stick to archs from now on. Don't worry LaZy-RaIn-DaNcEr, I know you requested and I promised a big chapter, but you'll get your own arch. Probably coming up next._


	51. Battle Plan

_I suppose this is technically a part of the Clear Skies Arch._

Once the storm had settled, there was an undeniable sense of peace that permeated every wall, window, and person within the northern complex. Of course there were a few yetis that specialized in architecture and maintaining the complex that would not shut up about how they had so much work to do with the collapsed wing, but they mostly kept to themselves once North had told them off.

The peace was almost strained, however. The Globe room was the center of it. They blocked off clearance to anyone that was not directly involved in Jack on a regular basis. The conversation was dire and serious. Everyone wanted to be a fly on the wall, wanted to be in the room watching, except for the people actually allowed in the room.

"He strives to be self-sufficient, but he clearly does not take care of himself," Bunny was saying, staring up at North. "I understand that that is your ultimate argument, mate. But babying him will only drive him away."

"He needs help," North interjected. "How else—"

"Forcing him to accept our help won't do any good. He practically lives in the belief that he doesn't need anyone. Why the hell do you think he does stuff like this?" By _this_, he meant the snow that still blocked out the windows.

North sighed and looked to Tooth. "What do you think?"

Tooth was not expecting the spotlight to shine on her suddenly. She glanced between the three other Guardians, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look flashing across her face. "Well, obviously North is right," she started and the Russian harrumphed smugly. "But so is Bunny."

North's expression dropped and Bunny smirked.

"The only way we're going to get him to come around is for him to trust us," she finished.

"He trusts us," North said quietly, sounding hurt.

Bunny shook his head, an equally sad expression crossing his mug. "Not as much as we would like him to."

"How do you mean?"

Bunny looked from the Russian to the fire burning in the hearth. "I think he's still afraid that we're going to abandon him. He did all of this to please us. He would go so far to hurt himself so that we would think he's useful to us." There was a silence that followed Bunny's words. The Pooka looked back at his fellows, a pained expression on his face. "He was delirious and being painfully honest for once," Bunny explained into the quiet.

The argument came to a suspending halt as they all absorbed this bit of information. No one moved for a long time. Sandy was the first to break out of the shock. He floated forward so that he was more in the center of the room than off to the side. He pulled his snowflake from his hair and showed it to everyone. Over his head he showed a family hugging.

Bunny watched and was the first to interpret. "Sandy's right," he started. "We need to gain his trust, let him know that he is our family and that nothing can change that. He's a Guardian now and he needs to be reminded of that every now and again. And in the process, we can work on taking care of him. What the real problem is that he doesn't think he deserves to be cared for. As his family, we need to make him believe otherwise."

North looked up from the fire and back to Bunny. "We'll make him eat more. He's too skinny."

"He'll never do that no-snow trick again," Tooth interjected

"We will find the time to talk to him when he feels lonely," Bunny added.

Sandy made a quill and paper over his head and North laughed.

"Yes, we should write these all down."

The presence of a plan lifted their spirits dramatically. Tooth hovered off the armchair she had been in, a smile returning to her face at long last. "We should bake him a cake!

Bunny gave her a look that bordered between being amused and irritated. "Tooth, a cake will do him no good. We need to make him a feast."

"We do both!" North exclaimed loudly. "We make him cake and feast." He laughed, moving to the door were the herd of yetis stood outside waiting. "Someone get me Steve. I want him to pull out the vodka and get the kitchen yetis started. When Jack wakes up, we will celebrate.

Bunny snorted. "What are we celebrating, exactly?"

"We celebrate family," the Russian boomed. The somber attitude had finally been lost. It was like the whole complex breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone knew what they needed to do now, and it felt so much better than floundering around in confusion.

When Jack awoke to the expected talking-to, he bore it with acceptance and dignity. He did not regret doing what he did, but even North could tell that he was relieved he not be asked to do it again. The best part of Jack waking up, however, was seeing the looked of shocked delight cross his face when he was shuffled off to the dining room and told he was allowed to eat as much as his little heart desired.

That was the best post-Christmas celebration the Guardians had ever had.

_Afterword: In case your confused, the previous Darkness Arch now has its own story. I haven't written anything for Clear Skies in a while, so I figured that I should. I feel as if they were out of character a little. I suppose that's what I get. I hope you all enjoyed._

_Also, North is Russian. Russians love vodka. Nuff said._


	52. Hollow Leg

_Set after the movie._

Jack was smart with food. It kind of shocked the others to find out that Jack knew not to eat a lot the first few times.

Well, actually they assumed that he did not eat much to begin with. He was so small they never thought of him as a real heavy eater. That thought lasted about a week after the new 'secretly baby Jack' initiative came to pass.

Of course, North did not find out about how much food Jack actually ate until one of the yetis complained about having to send out more hunting parties and possibly making an extension to the garden. This had puzzled the Russian at first and the simple answer he had gotten, was Jack. Just, Jack.

As it turned out, Jack had a hollow leg and two stomachs in which he could hold his weight in food. And he was not picky either. Some of the kitchen yetis thought that was a godsend, while other believed it another curse.

Once North's orders to give Jack as much food as he wanted anytime he asked had gone through the ranks, the architecture yetis and the kitchen yetis started collaborating on the possible extension over in the collapsed wing of the complex. Once they brought North into the fold of planning, he made everyone swear that they would not tell Jack about this. It wasn't like he could eat them out of house and home or anything, but he would think he was being a bother and his pesky lack of self-esteem would rear its ugly head again.

Jack would go back to his 'I'm useless and now I'm a bother' trip. And they would all go back to square one of trying to get Jack not to do stupid things that he thinks would please them.

So North approved the plans to extend the garden and storage areas in the collapsed wing, which meant that the refurbished commons areas would have to be moved to another wing. It meant that the complex would have to get bigger, and changing the complex structurally would mean having to deal with the snow and tree golems that protected the place.

North read the lengthening list of things to do with another forlorn sigh. But seeing Jack get chased out of the kitchen with a grin wrapped around a biscuit was oddly worth it.

_Afterword: Sorry it's so short guys. I wanted something cute, but it refused to be very long, so there you go._

_I want to thank you guys all so very much for giving me the confidence to write again. I was feeling really down in the dumps before I started writing Invisible, but thanks to everyone who commented, faved, and followed, I was reminded why I chose to be a writer in the first place. You guys are awesome and I love you all!_


	53. Conversations With the Walls

_Set after the movie._

Jack talked to himself a lot. It was one of the things Bunny noticed first. One of the first quirks about the boy that was more concerning than annoying, actually. He did not do it when he was around other people, so it actually took a while for the Pooka to find out.

He caught him in a room in his warren one day. He was lured there by the sound of voices. Or rather, one voice that had quickly become very familiar in the oh-crap-I'm-getting-pranked fashion.

But upon arriving in the small deserted room in his Warren did he find Jack not actually doing anything. He was just staring at the wall, cross-legged on the ground, talking to himself. He was keeping a full conversation all on his own. Bunny was not quite sure as to what the topic was, seeing as it seemed to bounce around faster than Tooth on a sugar high. Not that Jack had to slow down or stay on one topic. He was talking to himself, so he always knew what he was talking about.

Bunny cleared his throat and Jack actually startled. The boy turned to look at him, alarm on his face. "Bunny! I thought you were busy."

"Not so busy that I can't come investigate someone having a conversation with the wall." The pooka had not meant it to come out so sarcastically.

Jack winced and blushed a little purple. He ducked his head, turning back away from the other. "Sorry. I can go somewhere else it I was bothering you."

Bunny froze for a second in surprise. Since when did Jack just give up like that? Usually once Bunny gave Jack his attention, it was hard to get the kid to leave him alone after that. But now he seemed too willing to bugger off without much effort on Bunny's part. It made the pooka feel bad for all the times he sent Jack away.

Bunny sighed, scrubbing his face. "You don't have to go," he told the boy.

Jack's face lit up brighter that North's personal Christmas tree and Bunny immediately felt better about that decision.

"Really? You're okay with me hanging out?"

"O'course," Bunny said, making it sound like a stupid question to ask. "You're always welcome here, kiddo. So long as ya don't mess up anything important."

Jack grinned and got to his feet. "Of course not. I'll be good."

Bunny eyed him for a moment as he walked across the room toward him. "Who were ya talkin' to?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to make sure that Jack did not have a stuff animal or something.

"Oh uh…" Jack looked back into the room, a blush on his face again. Bunny was almost surprised at how embarrassed he was about this whole thing. "Um, myself," he finally admitted after a long minute.

"Yourself?"

"Yeah… Sorry. Being on my own. No one wanted to talk to me, so I got by." He shrugged nonchalantly in the face of Bunny's horror. Jack usually did not talk about all the time he spent alone. He usually avoided mentioning it like nothing else. The fact that he said something, admitted to a hardship and how he got over it threw the pooka for a loop.

Bunny put his paws on Jack's shoulders, making the boy look up in mild surprise. He was still unused to being touched and he squirmed just a little at the contact. Bunny pulled him a little closer so that he was in his face a little. He locked eyes with the kid, trying to make him understand with his gaze alone. "You are not alone anymore. You don't have to talk to yourself. You can talk to any of us anytime you want. Just tell us you're lonely and we'll be there. That's what family is for."

Jack looked a little stricken, as if Bunny had smacked him across the face. "I-uh… Okay…" He smiled weakly, swallowed a few times, and nodded. He looked a little on the verge of tears, but held back whatever emotion was roaring just below the skin.

Bunny pulled him into a short hug and led him out of the room. "How about you help me make some eggs? I need help with some new designs. Since you make such nice snowflakes, maybe you could help out, eh?"

Jack nodded mutely. Bunny still had his arm around the boy's shoulder, pulling him to his side. He steered him from the lonely room and into the Warren proper.

"Thanks for letting me help."

Bunny smiled, knowing that he was thanking him for more than just that. "You're welcome, Frostbite."

_Afterword: I have no idea where the whole Frostbite thing came from but I think it's adorable. Last update until Monday guys, unless I miraculously manage to finish the first chapter of the high school au, in which case you'll see that tomorrow._

_I want to mention something that's been bugging me. I know that there is a canon Mother Nature, and I think it's Pitch's daughter. I don't know why, but I don't like that idea. It makes things complicated for me because then I have to go and change a bunch of chapters and learn about Pitch's daughter if I want to incorporate her, etc. I like the idea that Pitch's daughter was a mortal, or on another plane where he can't reach her. There's something tragic about that. So I'm going to keep my version of Mother Nature, and decide what I'm going to do with Pitch's daughter later. I'm not trying to blatantly ignore canon, I just don't like it. This is fanfiction, and as someone pointed out in review ages ago, all fanfiction is au, that's what makes it fun._

_And with that I will wish you all a wonderful weekend. I have lots of studying to do. _


	54. Soundless World

_Set before the movie._

Day after day. It was normal, it was monotonous. It was boring and mundane. But most of all, it was sad. Jack did not have much of a reference on anything other than this, but it was still sad. It was so quiet, all the time. He was not sure how to handle it at first.

The wind tried to help. It was his friend. His only friend. He cherished it with every ounce of his heart because it would not leave him. But it never spoke either. It had its own way of talking, but none of that could quite relieve the ache in Jack's heart.

No matter how much time he spent within the wind's embrace, it never managed to quell the ache of loneliness. The wind was like a pet in a sense. It could never be tamed like a pet, so perhaps in a way it was like how a human thought of a god. They were always present, almost familiar, but wild and untamed. A constant companion that you had no say or sway over.

The fact of the matter was that the wind was all Jack had. He had no friends, he had no family. He was alone. That was hard to come to terms with at first. Jack had cried and yelled and cursed and blew up storms that killed and hurt. That was the worst thing about being alone, he realized. That he could be so upset that he could hurt people. He killed crops and drove them away from their homes because the winters would get so bad.

He felt shame for that. More shame than he felt for anything else. When people died, or got sick, or starved because he could not control him emotions and thus his powers. The first few decades were the worst for that.

Jack had no one that could help him. The wind could not teach him how to use his powers. The wind could not even teach him how to utilize the gifts and favors it was giving Jack. The moon created him, gave him life and a name. But it somehow forgot to mention what his purpose was. It gave him all this power and all this time to use it, but forgot to give him an instruction manual so that he did not end up killing everyone around him.

The moon had abandoned him.

That was the only explanation Jack could come up with. His mind was still young by so many standards. The moon never talked to him, never answered his desperate questions. It never eased the ache in his heart, or the silence that was slowly eating at his mind. It refused. It ignored him.

Jack must have been incomplete. He was an accident. The moon would not abandon his children like he did Jack unless Jack was only there because of an accident. That was the only explanation after the ghost theory had run its course.

The moon did not abandon all of his other children. They were strong and powerful. They were regarded highly by everyone else. They were known, they got invited to parties and gatherings. They were loved.

But no one loved Jack except the wind. That was better than being completely alone, Jack knew. But he still yearned for more than an invisible being, even on their plane, that had no voice and no real sentience. The wind did not have a conscious thought. It was above that level of evolution, if it could be called that. The wind was ethereal and otherworldly, even for the immortals.

Jack yearned for someone to hug him because no one ever touched him. He never knew what a hug was or what it felt like. And yet he wanted to be pulled into the embrace of someone that cared for him. He wanted to be held like a precious child, to be safe and protected. Jack wanted someone tosmile with him and laugh at his jokes and pranks. He wanted someone who would talk with him late into the night when the silence and darkness was too much to bare alone. Most of all, Jack wanted someone to _look_ at him.

But Jack was a lesser known ice spirit. Despite his apparent status as the Spirit _of_ Winter, it was still always _Jack Who_? Immortals did not like ice spirits, Jack was quick to find out.

He stopped trying after a while. It was not worth all of the pain. Jack was alone, but that was fine. The silence would always haunt him, but he would not let it affect him. Jack could take care of himself. He did not need anyone else there.

So why, then, when he sat alone in the soundless world, did he feel so hollow?

_Afterword: Hey y'all. I don't know how many people are reading Darkness so I'm going to do my spiel here. _

_How many people would be interested in me writing an original story? I know a few people mentioned that they wouldn't mind seeing something besides ROTG from me, but I want to know how many people would actually be interested. I realize that you have no idea what I've been working on, so you're going off of example._

_The story I'm thinking of is something that's been cooking in my brain for the better part of five years. It's an alien war story, to put it simply. It's not human vs alien, either. It's mostly alien vs. alien and sometimes is human/alien vs. alienX2 but alliances have a tendency to flip flop a lot. I'm very proud of it and have worked really hard on it thus far. There's lots of character angst, because I know you guys like that. There's some romance too, but it's not center of the story. I'm thinking it's going to be on an arch format similar to Invisible, but obviously in chronological order. It takes place over a ten to fifteen year period, give or take, so there will be arches of intense action and time breaks for when things run stagnant._

_I have hopes of publishing this one day, so if you're interested in reading it, tell me. I'm in desperate need of feedback. Of course, if you're not interested, then just ignore everything I just said. And I'll be off to go do important things now. Ta!_


	55. Midair Collision

_Set before the movie._

They did not meet the way most spirits met. Most spirits felt another in the vicinity and were usually compelled to go find out who they were. Not in Jack and Tabe's case, however. No, when they met, they literally collided with each other. In midair.

Jack's first impression of the other was that he looked like a fire. His clothes were rust red with gold accents. His skin was dark, what little Jack could see of it, and his eyes were like gold had melted into them. He wore many layers, like he could not get warm. A strange hood covered most of his head, and the scarf that was attached hid his mouth.

From the way the skin crinkled around his eyes, Jack could tell he was irritated with being nearly knocked clean out of the air. For that matter, so was Jack.

He cursed Jack in some language that he vaguely recognized but could not exactly place. "Who are you?" came the sharp follow up.

"Who are you?" Jack returned, equally as irritated. He had the childish notion that he should be covering his face like the stranger to give himself a fair advantage. He felt exposed without being able to see the expression on the other's face.

"I asked you first."

"I was flying here first."

The other snorted. "You weren't watching where you were going."

"Neither were you."

The stranger scoffed. "I don't fly, I ride. I have no control over where I go."

"Yes you do." Jack saw that for the lie it was, past the surprise that this stranger was a wind rider. Not his wind, though. The other's companion was warm and dry and made Jack's nose burn.

"How would you know?" he said hotly.

"I ride too, and I have plenty of control."

"Then why didn't you get out of the way," the other flung back, making Jack feel stupid.

"You have the same amount of control, why didn't you?"

There was a half-second pause. "I have other important things to do then watch out for lowly ice sprites."

Jack felt his hackles rise at that. He gripped his staff, planning to show this stranger just what a 'lowly ice sprite' could really do. "I'll have you know that I'm a spirit. The winter spirit, to be exact." He kept his expression relatively flat, but he was sure that the other could see the anger simmering just below the surface.

The pause from the other this time was nearly a half of a minute and Jack really wished he could see his face. "You're the new winter spirit?" It was a flat question, but there was a hint of awed disbelief. "I heard you're the first elemental to be born from the Moon and not Terra."

"That's right. Now you know who I am, so who are you?"

"Oh. I'm the summer spirit. Tabe is what they call me."

"Jack."

The pause was awkward as they both grappled for something to say. "So then… I guess-" Tabe cut off with a shrug. "I guess I'll be going."

Jack nodded, thankful for the excuse to leave. This was getting really awkward really fast. "Yeah, me too. I gotta go do winter stuff."

"Yeah, me too. Except, you know, summer instead of winter, because I'm the summer spirit so it would hard to do winter stuff." He laughed nervously. "Right, watch where you're going next time."

"You too."

They flew off in their respective directions. Jack quirked the slightest of smiles, his brows furrowing. That was the strangest conversation he had had, but the promise of a next time still made him smile a little.

_Afterword: For those that don't read Darkness, I will release the first chapter of DBD on the first Sunday of April. That would be the 7__th__. Also my birthday. I'll be nineteen…_

_Anyway! Thank you for everyone that responded. It gave me all kinds of warm fuzzies. I will announce where I plan to post DBD at a later date. It will likely be in a number of places, so no worries. Follow me on tumblr for updates on how that's coming along, as well as some Invisible scraps and ROTG headcanons. And probably just random shit that I find funny. There's a link in my profile, if you're interested. I've advertised before, but I thought I should do it again._

_And with that I have homework to do before class starts todays, so ta my lovelies!_


	56. Fallen

_Set after the movie and the Forever Arch._

Jamie looked up from the vegetables he was chopping when he heard a dull thump outside the window. The darkness outside prevented him from seeing anything out of the ordinary, but his interest was piqued. Sammy was at his grandparent's house for the weekend, leaving only Jamie and Sophie for the evening.

He had apologized to his sister for past hurts, and she did the same. They had not seen or talked to each other in a few years and it was far too long for sibling that had once been so close to be apart. They had made up and now she visited him on a semi-regular basis.

Jamie would never admit it, but he was jealous of his sister. The young woman had never stopped believing in Jack or the other Guardians as he had. Jack had been his best friend but it was the girl that had been his human comforter when things went bad. There was something about that that made him feel terrible and guilty and incredibly jealous all at the same time.

"Soph, was that you?"

"What?" she called from the living room, which ruled her out immediately.

"Come here."

He waited a moment for her to come, not taking his eyes off the window, or moving the knife anymore. She came beside him a second later, looking at him, the knife, then to where he was staring intently out the window. "What?" she asked again.

"I heard something."

She leaned up against the counter, careful not to move the cutting board or touch the knife. She peered into the darkness outside the window and after a moment, she leaned back down, her feet landing on the ground again. "I don't see anything. Maybe it was a raccoon or something."

Just as Sophie turned away to go back to the living room, a pale white hand reached up clumsily to grasp at the window sill. Jamie jumped, dropping the knife with a loud enough clatter to make Sophie turn back around.

A second later Jack pulled himself into view, a sheepish smile stretched across his lips. Only his head peeked over the window sill. "Hi."

Sophie was at Jamie's side in a second flat, trying to pull the boy through the window. Jamie grabbed her shoulder to get her to let go. The last thing he wanted was a winter spirit plowing through his chopped vegetables. He was not sure of Jack had the same idea or not, but he seemed rather resistant to being pulled up and into the house.

"Ow, ow!" Jack squirmed loose of Sophie's grasp and disappeared into the bush below the window again. Brother and sister leaned over the counter to see out into the darkness. "Can I have a glass of water?"

Jamie's brows furrowed. That was the strangest request he had ever gotten from his friend. Upon glancing at Sophie, he realized that she was equally confused. Why would Jack need a glass of water? "Would you like ice?" Jamie asked conversationally.

"Yes. Majority ice would be great, actually." His voice seemed tired, strained even. Line of worry creased Sophie's face, and Jamie could feel his own dread curl in his stomach.

The girl was quick to get him water, putting on the window sill hard enough that Jack could hear her putting it there. Pale fingers brushed the sill awkwardly as he looked for it. She ended up handing it to him. The glass disappeared into the darkness a second later, and came back up empty after a time.

"Thank you."

"Are you alright?" Sophie asked, something between irritation and concern in her voice.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just took a nasty fall, that's all," came the nonchalant reply from below the window.

Jamie really did not like the fact that Jack was not showing himself past his head and hands. "Are you sure, man? Do you need help?"

"Nope. I'm cool." There was a laugh but it sounded a little wheezy. "Oh man, that was bad."

His joke seemed to have glanced off Sophie. If anything, it only made her worry more. She looked at Jamie and mouthed, 'he's hurt.'

"How do you know?" Jamie whispered back, barely audible.

"It's the way he's acting. I'll stay here and distract him, you go out and get him," she said back, equally as quiet.

Jamie nodded and Sophie turned back to the window. "So what brings you to Burgess, Jack?"

"Oh, you know. It's winter. I thought I'd stop by."

Jamie did not hear the rest of the conversation as he left the kitchen. Finding Jack in the brush was easy, it was staying discrete that was difficult. To say things lightly, Jack heard Jamie coming. It was too hard to see the winter spirit past the lump of white that blended in with the side of the house.

"I'm okay, Jamie," he said softly.

"Why don't you come in then?" Jamie was still trying to reach him past the frozen branches. Jack had not moved and Jamie could see Sophie trying to see past the darkness.

"I'm comfortable here."

Jamie's foot caught on something, throwing his balance forward. He was lucky enough to be close enough to the building that he was able to catch himself. He was close to Jack now, leaning over the immortal boy. In the dim light, he could see his face, and could see the way he was curled up against the wall.

"Please don't fall on me," Jack requested calmly.

"I'll try."

Using one arm to keep himself braced up, Jamie reached down with the other and offered Jack his hand. The boy looked at it for a moment then looked down, his head curling against his chest like he was about to fall asleep. "I'm okay," he repeated after a moment.

Rolling his eyes, he looked up at Sophie who was still watching from the window. She jabbed her head down in his direction in a pointed manner. Jamie sighed. How was he supposed to help someone that did not want help?

He brought his feet closer so he was no longer using the wall to support himself, careful not to step on Jack. He reached down with his newly freed arms and shook Jack. Gentle enough that it would not jostle any potential wounds but strong enough to still gain a sharp glare from him.

That was when Jamie noticed what was missing. He glanced up at his sister, still trying to see. "Go get a flashlight," he told her.

She turned away in a flash, even as Jack protested again. "I told you I was fine."

"Where is your staff, Jack?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

_Afterword: Happy Monday, guys. I think I'm getting sick. Which sucks because I can't afford to be sick, frankly. So I'll be muscling through this cold. The good news is that all the chapters for this week are already written up. Kind of. I have at least one for this new arch, and a random from the Clear Skies arch. I also have Darkness all set. So Ammi concentrate on school and eat lots of oranges and try not to capitalize words that don't need to be capitalized. Like Orange. _


	57. Lies

_Continuation of Fallen._

It took Jamie a long time to untangle both himself and Jack out of the frozen branches. Jack had not said a word after the question, instead taking to silence as he was drug to his feet. He was still hesitant, Jamie could feel it in the way he tried to refuse help. It was also obvious he needed it.

Jamie did not know much on the subject of immortal physiology. He knew that they were hard to kill, if they could be killed at all. He knew they could be wounded, but he did not know what kind of ramifications followed such an incident. He did not know how long it took for them to heal, or what kind of wounds were life threatening. He had never thought to ask Jack, nor had the winter child ever come to him in such a state.

There was no blood on his cape nor on the tunic beneath, but he walked with a gingerness that spoke of pain. He was favoring his left side, which had been the unfortunate side that Jamie had attempted to grab at when he first picked Jack up. It had earned him a hitching of breath and a few foul sounding words in what Jamie could only guess was French.

Sophie met him almost as soon as he managed to get out of the bushes. The girl was looking very much confused and very much worried. He wanted to smile and tell her how very _Sophie_ she looked.

"He doesn't have his staff, look in the bushes for it."

"I wouldn't bother," Jack replied sardonically. "I lost it way up there, I doubt it fell where I did."

"How'd you lose it?" Sophie asked, running the beam of light over his entire body, looking for any signs of blood.

She shined it in his face last and he ducked his head behind Jamie's shoulder to avoid going blind. "I didn't need those eyes or anything, Soph. Thank you."

Jamie could almost feel her glare. "How did you lose your staff, Jack?" Jamie asked this time.

"It's kind of embarrassing," he said after a minute.

Sophie moved to his other side but he did not give her the opportunity to help him, keeping his left arm firmly at his side.

"How so?" she asked conversationally.

"Oh you know. Getting too cocky, being thrown by the wind, losing my grip."

They dragged him through the door and Jamie set him down on the couch. Sophie went to go get him some more water and an icepack.

"You got thrown by the wind?" Jamie asked incredulously.

Jack gave him a tired look. "No, I was riding a purple flying unicorn called Twilight Sparkle."

"Twilight Sparkle cannot fly," Jamie told him calmly.

"Brony."

"You're changing the subject."

"Yes, I am."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Sophie came back and stopped in the door way, an amused smirk on her lips. "I feel like you guys are going to kiss."

Jack actually blushed purple at that, turning to regard her over the back of the couch. "First of all, ew. Second of all, mortal ew."

"Hey, you were a mortal once."

"Yes, and I like mortal girls way back when."

Sophie came around the couch and handed him the glass and icepack, a wicked grin on her face. "You liked girls, or a girl?"

The winter child sputtered for a moment. "I-There- I do not want to talk about this."

"Then tell us how you lost your staff."

Jack looked between the sibling with an expression of dawning horror. He did not say anything for the longest moment before he finally sighed and took a long drink from the cup. "Well, I was riding the wind. Off to do important winter spirit things when I got bored and asked the wind to play a game with me."

"What kind of game?"

"The try-to-keep-me-from-falling game."

Sophie blinked for a moment. "I don't understand."

"I was watching some kid play hacky sack the other day and I thought it would be cool if I was the sack."

Jamie raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"It was not my greatest idea, okay," he grunted. "I was bored."

"So then now what do we do?" Sophie moved to sit beside Jack.

The winter spirit was slumped into the couch, looking a little drowsy. "I don't know. Someone will find it and return it to me eventually. This isn't the first time I've lost it."

Jamie raised an eyebrow at him. "I hadn't realized you made a habit of losing your conduit of power."

This earned him a heated looked from the immortal. "Ha-ha, very funny. You sound like your mother."

"I've had practice."

The silence that followed stretched into awkwardness that was only broken by Sophie gathering Jack up into a hug. Sophie was rather small compared to most people, but she was still able to mostly smother Jack in her arms. The winter spirit had been failing at staying awake and was startled into alertness when he was suddenly being moved.

Jamie looked at his sister questioning.

"He's tired, Jamie. If he's not too terribly alarmed by this, then maybe we should just let him rest."

Jamie frowned but conceded. He watched as Jack struggled groggily against Sophie for a minute before giving in himself and slumping against her with a mumbled apology. As to what the boy was apologizing for, Jamie had no idea, but he had a feeling that Jack was not telling them the entire truth.

_Afterword: Guys! I have so much homework! I have an essay due tomorrow and I haven't even started it yet. I'm going to die and it's only the third week of the semester._

_This arch will be continued, but not in the next update. For some reason, I forgot that I had an arch going so when I wrote the next chapter, it was something completely different. Also unfortunate in that I got ahead of myself with the whole DBD original fiction. I'm delaying the release date to an undisclosed time. I had not realized just how much work I still had to do before I could start writing it. So I highly doubt that I will hit the April date. I've got too much going on in that month anyway, all things considered._

_On an unrelated note, crashing for fourteen hours does much to improve my rank of sicky of the week to less-sicky of the week. I'm still not quite over it, but a constant supply of tea and gobs of cold medicine have me improving steadily. I think that's everything I wanted to talk about, so I'm off to pull an essay miracle out of my ass. Ta!_


	58. Hold

_Clear Skies Arch._

Bunny stood slowly. He was quiet as he crossed the room. The grass and moist soil beneath his feet muffled his footsteps.

Jack had been quiet for a long time. The pooka would have thought the boy was asleep if not for the irregular breathing. He was tucked into a small alcove in the wall where he had curled up on his side in the semi-darkness.

He had stopped talking about topics that he usually clammed up about after a while. Bunny was not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He knew that the winter child needed to talk about these things. It was not his forte, normally, but he knew when some things needed to be discussed.

Bunny walked past, hoping to leave the boy for a while. Maybe he could use the quiet. He complained a few times of his head hurting. Jack's arm suddenly shot out and grabbed Bunny's furred arm. The pooka looked down in surprise, then at the boy.

"What's up, Snowflake? Something wrong?"

Jack turned slowly to look up at him. His eyes were glassy in the dimness, the shadows beneath them worse than earlier, it seemed. His nose was still bleeding but it had slowed for the moment. "Where are you going?"

"You seem tired. I was going to let you rest for a while."

The hand around his wrist tightened imperceptivity. "No," Jack whispered tiredly. Bunny had never heard such terrible exhaustion in his voice before. "Please don't go."

He tugged weakly on the arm he held, trying to get the pooka to sit down beside him. Bunny did as he was beckoned, crouching down beside the boy silently. "It's okay, kiddo. I'm not going anywhere."

Bunny brought Jack's hand into his own and held it there for a long minute. His paws curled around the icy fingers comfortingly. "Don't worry, Frostbite. You're not alone. I won't let you be alone."

The smile that crept its way across his blue lips was weak and tired and terribly sad. He tried, God he tried. Jack wanted to reassure Bunny that he knew that, but he could not muster the strength to fully believe it, let alone convince someone else that he did.

"I've always been on my own. Why is now any different?" It was not condescending or accusing. It was merely an observation. "Why does it matter?"

"Because you don't want to be alone anymore," Bunny reasoned quietly.

The fingers in his paws curled slightly as if his words had struck something in the boy. Through all of Jack's blubbering, he had not cried a single time. Now, though, a small crystalline tear streaked down his pale face and was lost in the bed of moss below his face.

"I don't want to be alone," he whispered sadly.

He fell into silence again, his hand still clenched safely in the warm grasp of Bunny's paws. "Don't you worry, Jack," he said gently. The use of the boy's name seemed to cement it inside him even more. "I ain't goin' anywhere."

Jack seemed to believe him this time. He sighed softly and all of the tension seemed to leak out of his body. The pain creasing his brow eased a bit and his smile was just a little more genuine this time. Bunny sighed too, feeling like he'd just leapt a huge hurtle and feeling the accomplishment blossom in his chest. Little by little, he thought to himself as he watched Jack drift just below the surface of conscious again.

_Afterword: So I somehow forgot that I was in the middle of writing an arch and then this was born. Sorry about that guys. I'm also sorry for being so late. Got a little busy today._


	59. Racism

_Clear Skies Arch._

Jack suddenly stopped in the middle of the path. Bunny had to stop short and take a step back to stop himself from slamming into the back of the winter spirit.

"What? What is it?" Bunny asked after a moment, coming around so that he was in front of the boy.

Jack stood stock still, staring ahead. A look of horror slowly dawned on his face, his eyes impossibly wide. He let out a sound between a moan and a keen and it struck Bunny deeper than Pooka could have ever expected. It was a sound of unadulterated fear. It was the kind of sound that would haunt Bunny for years to come.

The pooka put his paws on Jack's shoulder and shook him sharply, trying to get him to respond. He seemed frozen for a long moment.

He open his cracked lips finally, breath hissing out before he inhaled again sharply. "I'm so sorry," he whispered at last. He did not give Bunny a chance to respond before he doubled over. The sound that left him this time echoed a heart stopping sorrow. This was worse than the last.

Bunny followed him down, holding him when he threatened to collapse completely. Jack's hands scrambled on the old stone of the tunnel, his fingernail scratching and breaking against the ancient designs.

"What is it?" Bunny asked again, panic settling sickeningly into his body. "What's wrong?"

Jack suddenly looked up at him sharply, a haunted look shadowing his eyes. Tears threatened to streak down his cheeks, his eyes bright and glassy. "I'm a monster," he said at last. "I have killed people. I am a monster."

Bunny let out a breath he had not realized he was holding, bringing the boy into his arms. Jack curled up against him without much protest, clutching at the fur on his chest as if it were his life line. "I know why other spirits hate me."

"They don't hate you," Bunny told him calmly.

"Yes they do," Jack returned, equally as calm. His voice did not shake, but his body trembled in agony. Bunny held him tighter, wishing that this pain would go away and leave the poor boy alone. "They hate my kind because we always hurt the people around us. We don't mean to, that's just what we do."

Bunny snorted, trying to make some humor out of such a dark topic. "Your kind, Jack?" He looked down at the boy and nearly swallowed his words at the dark expression on the other's face.

"Ice spirits. We're dangerous and we're less than everyone else."

Bunny felt his ire rise. Not at Jack. He could not be angry at the boy right now. No, he was angry at everything else. He was angry at the world for making Jack believe this. He was angry at himself, because he had believed it. He was angry at the truth, for all the lies it told.

He let out a sigh, his breath hissing from him angrily. "Don't ever believe you are less just because of the element you control," Bunny told him firmly, hating himself for saying it. He hated it because he had undeniably believed in the notion that ice spirits were dangerous too. It was true that they were, but he had believed the lie that they could not control themselves. Jack, especially in his current state, was proof that he and many hundreds of others were wrong.

There was a long pause from Jack and then the boy laughed. It startled Bunny so deeply, he almost let him go to give him a good once-over. "What?"

"Tabe told me once that it was what humans called racism. I did not know what he meant by that. I was too naïve at the time," he said slowly, an exhaustion creeping into his voice that was not born from his current efforts. "He gave me advice to stay away from other spirits. That I would just hurt myself." He paused again, his voice getting quieter.

He suddenly got up, pushing Bunny away. He righted himself and took a few steps before turning back to look at Bunny. His eyes were clear, his expression dead. He regarded Bunny with a terrible wisdom that nailed the pooka were he sat.

"I should have listened."

The mock humor, the horrible knowledge that stung behind each word, haunted every syllable. The half-smile, self-deprecating and sad. It all slammed into Bunny with the force of a freight train. The pooka sat frozen long after Jack left, the boy nodding once, then picking up a conversation with someone else that Bunny was not aware of. The words echoed in his mind, repeating over and over.

The thing that frightened him the most was not the truth behind the words. It was how _defeated _he sounded. He was not calling those that hurt him out as wrong. He was calling himself wrong. As if he was the scourge of the world and he should have been a good ice spirit and hid in a hole. The implications would haunt Bunny more than the sounds of his pain, more than the consequences of any actions.

It took a long time for Bunny to pick himself off the floor. It took him even longer to push down the fear that rose like bile in him, or the shame that made his body ache. It took him longer still to quell the trembling in his limbs and find Jack. He followed the boy, listening to his rants and rambling even when they were not directed at him. He followed him because Bunny was afraid that Jack was going to fall back into that moment of defeat. He wanted to be there to stop him from falling.

_Afterword: Happy Monday! I don't have school today, yippee! Uh, so… It wasn't that I forgot. It's just that I was having a hard time writing for the Fallen arch. For some reason, it's not being cooperative. Maybe because it's threatening to be kind of long. I had not realized how many problems I had to fix, and as much as I would like to do the Shakespearian Shuffle, it's proving difficult. So yeah. I have two more for the Fallen arch almost ready, then I took another break. Also, I'm going to suspend Darkness for a little bit. I'm getting bored and still don't have a solid plan, so I think I'm going to try rewriting a few chapters and see how that goes. So all Invisible chapters this week. I don't know when Darkness will be back, but I'll let you know._


	60. Morning

_Fallen Arch._

Jamie had snuck down stairs quietly. He had always been somewhat of an early riser. There was something peaceful and fulfilling about watching the sun rise over the snowcapped hills in the distance. He came down from his room while it was still dark, and peeked into the cold living room. They had shut the heating vents in the downstairs portions of the house to hopefully make Jack a little more comfortable.

Jamie had never personally seen the boy sleep before but once he was down the previous night, neither of them could wake him. He silently hoped that the boy was okay.

When Jamie looked, however, Jack was not on the couch. He quickly checked that the winter child had not rolled off the couch in his sleep or something, but when he did not find him, Jamie deduced he had left or something. There was a stillness in the house that spoke of sleep and emptiness. Jack was no longer in the house.

Shrugging, Jamie supposed the boy had probably gotten his staff back and left. Like he had said last night, he was needed to do important winter spirit things around the world. So Jamie went about his morning. He made a pot of coffee, got dressed, put on a scarf and hat and took his lovely morning drink into the frigid outdoors just as the sun was rising in the clear cold sky.

Jamie closed the door behind him silently and turned to regard the world. He stopped short upon seeing Jack, standing stock still in the center of his lawn. His arms were outstretched as if he were greeting the sun.

Jamie watched him for a minute, feeling as if he was intruding on something. It seemed to take Jack a while to notice the human standing behind him. Or maybe that was how long it took him to grow impatient with being watched, it was hard to tell. Jack moved his head just slightly, barely discernible from Jamie's point of view, but he was aware that Jack was suddenly looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Jamie thought it was time he approached his friend. He trudged across the snow to stand next to the boy, noticing how there was no tracks in the snow to tell him how Jack got there or how long he'd been standing like that.

"Good morning," Jamie greeted quietly.

"Good morning."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Saying hello."

"To the sun?"

Jack nodded, silent and reserved. It set off of few alarms in Jamie. Jack was never this docile unless something was seriously wrong.

"Are you alright?"

Jack actually turned to look at him this time, lowering his arms at last. "What?" He blinked, looking as if he had just realized that Jamie was standing beside him.

"I asked if you were feeling alright. You're acting strange and it's starting to worry me, Jack."

The boy stared at him for a long moment, confusion and something else that Jamie could not quite identify in his expression. Suddenly he sighed, long and heavy. His shoulders slumped as if he had a terrible weight on them.

"I'll be fine."

Jamie was not lost on the wording, or the way Jack suddenly looked back at the horizon and refused to look at his face again. "You'll be fine, but you're not right now?"

Again a pause, and then Jack nodded, a deep frown twisting his lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing you can help with," he said, effectively passing Jamie off as useless.

There was something about that that irritated the man. He grimaced and fought off the urge to glare at the boy. "So what, you're going to sit here and sulk while Sophie and I pick our noses?"

That earned him a smile from the winter child, but he still did not look at Jamie. "I hadn't realized that you guys were into the habit of picking your nose," he jabbed back, but it did not have any of the usual fire.

Jamie sighed, rolling his eyes. He turned to go back into the house, irritation making him stomp particularly loudly through the snow. He was stopped by Jack's voice.

"I'm sorry, Jamie." He had said it so softly and sincerely that it made the man stop. He looked back at the winter spirit to find him staring back at him. "I didn't mean to insult you. There is something wrong, but I don't want you to worry about it. There's nothing you can do to help me, and I don't want you to be suffering for my sake." He managed a smile, but even Jamie could feel the force behind it. "I'll be okay, I promise."

Jamie sighed again and trudged back to his friend. "You are the worst kind of humble, you know that right?"

Jack laughed a little, his smile turning self-deprecating, but at least it was little less fake. "Yeah, that's what Bunny tells me."

"So you're really not going to tell me what's eating you?" Jamie asked gently, careful to keep any impatience out of his voice. Getting personal information like this out of Jack was like pulling teeth. Jamie had learned that when he was a kid, and some things never change.

Jack's smile disappeared in a flash and he looked back the sun. It was a little higher now, and Jamie was starting to feel the warmth of it on his skin.

"I need to find my staff, Jamie." There was a terrible desperation in his voice, a carefully concealed panic that threatened to escape. "I could be in some real trouble if I don't."

Jamie considered his friend's admission, thinking carefully. He had never seen Jack without his staff. The boy had told him once that it could be broken and that it hurt him when it did, but that he could also repair if that happened. Jamie never worried about it. Jack was usually so carefully with it. He never forgot it anywhere, no matter what he was doing, or where he was going. Looking at him now, Jamie could not help but feel that Jack was lacking without it. He did not seem as grand or impressive. He was still Jack, but there was something _wrong_ with the image of Jack without his crook.

"So how do find it?"

"I summoned Gunter already, but I'll need more help then just him."

Jamie twitched at that. "Gunter?"

"My magical penguin helper. I only call on him when I really, really need him, which isn't all that often."

"You have a magical penguin helper. And you named him Gunter…?"

The wicked grin on Jack's face was more reminiscent of his usual mischievous self. "Of course I named him Gunter. Why wouldn't I? It was better than calling him Penguin, which was what had been his name for a while." Jack shook his head, as if the conversation had taken a turn for the pointless. "We'll need more help if we want to get it back quickly."

Jamie nodded, hoping that Jack didn't have any more magical helpers named after cartoon characters, but also would not put it past the boy. "Okay, what have you got planned?"

"I'm going to need some buckets and water. And don't worry. It will be really cool." With a grin and wink, Jack turned from him and moved back toward the house.

_Afterword: Blah Tuesday, but here, have some Fallen arch. Someone requested a directory for Invisible. I think that is a grand idea. I'll make two; one for chronological order, and one where all the archs are numbered and stuff. Where should I put it, though? I could replace the first chapter with it. I didn't like the first chapter very much. Or I could just rewrite it and tack on the end and have the directory at the beginning. Or I could put it in my profile. What do you guys think?_


	61. Coffee

_Fallen Arch._

Jack was sprawled rather hilariously across the living room floor. Sophie was a late riser, and the frost child had fallen asleep again while he was waiting for her. He was a quiet sleeper, but the kind of person that took up more space than initially thought possible. Jamie found it infinitely amusing. Sammy was the same way.

The little boy would be at his grandmother's house for another day. Jamie was not entirely sure if he was glad, or felt honestly guilty for not giving his son the chance to hang out with Jack.

The very fact that he was asleep again worried the man. Jack was never one for sleeping much. He had told him once that immortals ran on different standards of time. They did not have to sleep very often or for very long.

The whole bucket request got delayed. They would need help, and neither was very keen on getting the woman up to help them. So they waited.

Jamie had made it through his third cup of coffee and read the entire paper when Sophie finally trudged down the stairs. Her eyes were red, her hair a down right disaster. Jamie greeted her from the living room as she moved down the hall and into the kitchen, passing the entryway. She did not bother responding, but passed him a groggily look to acknowledge his existence. It reminded him of when they were still kids living together, and he had to suppress a laugh.

He turned back to his paper, catching Jack staring at him. He lowered the paper to meet the other's eyes, raising a brow in question. Jack looked tired still, despite the fact that he had been asleep a few minutes ago.

"Is she up?" he asked quietly, his voice a little raspy. Jamie furrowed his brows and Jack was quick to clear his throat, trying to be discrete about it.

"Yeah, she is. She'll be ready to help us in a bit."

Jack nodded let his eyes close again, a tired sigh escaping him.

Sophie trudged in a moment later, a cup of coffee held protectively to her chest. She sat down carefully, so as not to spill any of the precious liquid. She looked between the boy sprawled across the carpet, then to her brother.

"You are so mean, Jamie. Making Jack sleep on the floor."

Jack lifted his head to look at her. "I'm more comfortable down here, Soph. Trust me. Carpets are perfect. Better than trees and I don't feel like it's going to eat me like your couch."

She was about to say something about the tree comment, but decided she was not awake enough yet and took a sip of her coffee instead. "So why are we all sitting in here?"

"It's important that we find his staff," Jamie informed her.

She nodded carefully between sips. "Why?"

Jamie opened his mouth to answer when he realized that Jack had not actually specified why it was so important. He looked at the boy, who was watching them with half-lidded eyes. "Yeah, actually. Why is it so important, Jack?"

Jack eyed them for a minute. "You guys know the difference between a spirit and a sprite, right?"

There was a long pause on the humans' parts, then they shook their head.

Jack smirked and rolled over onto his stomach, his legs kicking up in the air and propping his head up in his palms. "Well, alright. So I'm a spirit, as you well know. I get mistaken for a sprite a lot. It's because I'm small. That's pretty much the only reason. Sprites are smaller than spirits, and usually not very bright. Although I've met a few very clever ones, so I'm not sure how much of that is actually true. There are also a lot of sprites. They get born and they die pretty quick. They're like magical band-aids. Spirits make them when they plan on doing something that requires the use of more magic than is safe for their body to expel at one time. They do their task and they often die doing it. They burn themselves out, shrivel away into nothing.

"I'm pretty small. Small enough to be mistaken, but I'm still bigger than a sprite. I have the energy capacity of a spirit, which means that I can do the same stuff they can. But magical energy can be dangerous. The smaller you are, the more dangerous for large amounts to be used at one time. If it leaves me too quickly, I could seriously do some damage to myself. That's why I have a staff. My staff makes it so that I can direct my magic down a safe avenue. It's not leaving me directly, it goes through the conduit. That's why I can't really do much without it. It's like peeing your pants. Once you've learned not to do it, it's really hard to actually pee your self."

"So what if your bladder gets too full then?" Sophie asked, following his metaphor.

Jack shrugged. "I explode."

Jamie's eyes widened, a trickle of dread dropping in his stomach like a stone. "Explode?"

"Well, kind of. I've never actually seen it happen. You just get so much energy bottled up that eventually it has to leave, and when it does…" He trailed away with a shrug and an equally troubled expression.

Sophie had almost forgotten her coffee at that point, starring at Jack with a mixture of horror and concern. "So we need to find it before that happens."

Jack nodded silently. "I have some ideas on how to speed of the process," he informed her.

"We should tell the other Guardians."

Jack looked up sharply at that. "What? No, they don't need to know." He shook his vehemently. "Bad idea, they'll go commando on this whole thing and only make it worse."

She gave him a hard look. "Almost two decades, Jack, and you still don't trust them." It was not a question, her tone dark and condescending and Jamie sensed the ache of a past experience.

"It's not that I don't trust them, Soph…"

Jamie felt distinctly uncomfortable when Sophie handed him her coffee and slipped off the couch to sit beside Jack. He hand rested on his back where she rubbed a small circle. "We should tell them. What if we don't find your staff?"

Jack rolled away from her, looking a little indignant. "No, they'll only make it worse. They'll panic and make everything a mess. I can handle this." He grinned at the two of them. "Besides, I have you guys to help me. That's all I'll need."

Sophie looked disappointed, but Jamie was glad she did not push the winter spirit any farther. He looked at his childhood friend, pushing away the remaining twinge of jealousy. "So, buckets and water?"

_Afterword: Good morning everyone, or afternoon. Happy Wednesday. It's really cold where I am. I was so cold this morning that I seriously could not feel my skin. I got some really cool cloud pictures though, so it was worth it. I counted the votes and the results are in. The majority of you guys wanted the directory in my profile, so that's where I'll put it. It's going to take me a few days. You probably won't see it until next week, but I'll let you know. I don't have a whole lot of time, and organizing them is harder than one would first think. Until tomorrow, ta!_


	62. Not Anything New

_Set after the movie._

They weren't expecting the crowd of kids to suddenly come around the corner. Bunny was who had saved them in the end. He had heard the ruckus, his boomerang destroying the last of the nightmares before he called out warningly. The others knew the command from experience and dove rather unceremoniously into any hiding place big enough to hold them. Except for Jack.

They had not thought to tell him, or maybe even if they had he still would not have reacted fast enough. The frost child spun on his heels when the others suddenly disappeared, panic racing across his face. The group of kids, which was really only four or five, came around the corner of the building, laughing and jostling each other playfully.

Jack did not have time to get out their way. It took all her self-control not to yell at them, because Tooth already knew what would happen the moment they came into view and none of them looked up to see Jack.

They passed right through him, turning him wispy white like ghost. The look of abject horror and pain made her chest ache. She glanced at Bunny when he shifted beside her, catching a grimace cross his face.

Jack stumbled a few steps back, leaning on his staff to catch his balance. The kids kept going, never knowing that they had stepped through someone. The moment they disappeared from sight, Tooth shot from the bush, circling Jack in her arms in a hug that threatened to knock the air from him.

Jack tensed as she came at him, and did not relax, even when she let him go. He looked more than a little shaken, but he was obviously trying to pull himself back together.

"Oh, Jack," she cooed softly. She wished she knew how to make him feel better. Words would never fix the pain of being walked through. They all knew that.

Bunny, North, and Sandy were all beside her in a second, crowding Jack accidently against the wall of the building behind him. The look of panic flashed across his face again. He looked between all of them as they attempted to all wrap him in their arms around him. The gesture only served to frighten him. He took a step away, tried to put a little distance between himself and them, but found the wall to his back. He leapt forward, planting his feet on North's shoulders and vaulting over the giant's head. He landed a few feet away, gracefully with not an ounce of his balance lost. He pulled up his hood, keeping his back to them for a minute.

The kept their distance, no matter how much Tooth wanted to hug him again. They waited for him to take a few deep breaths, his shoulders rising and slumping before he turned again.

"It's okay. It happens. I wasn't expecting a huge following quite yet." He smiled, but Tooth could still see the force behind it. Jack was a good liar. He was better than any of them thought possible, but they were starting to recognize the little ticks and habits that betrayed his real emotions. He was smiling, but his hood was up. He was telling them it was okay, but he held his staff to his chest as if he was afraid he was going to be attacked. The physical distance he had put between himself and the others seemed to yawn in front of them like a dark chasm, even if it was only a few feet.

Tooth fluttered closer, but kept her distance when Jack retreated a little more. The thought that he would fly away crossed her mind, and she decided that crowding him had been a bad idea. "We'll get you believers, Jack," she told him firmly. "You don't have to be invisible."

He laughed a little, but it still sounded a little shaky. "It's alright, guys," he asserted. "I'm used to it. It's not a new feeling, really."

Tooth could not help the wounded sound that left her. Her heart ached as if a nightmare had just bowled her over. A lump rose in her throat and she had to swallow a few times to keep from crying. Bunny rose to her guard, stepping closer. Jack retreated again, but not as far as when Tooth had come closer.

"You're acting worse than her when she gets a tick in her wing." Bunny jabbed a thumb at Tooth and she felt her dignity getting dumped on. She balked at him.

"At least I didn't scream like a little girl whenever someone mentions grey hounds," she shot back suddenly.

That earned her a glare, and a small chuckled from Jack. The expression on Bunny's face lit up with epiphany. She guessed he came to the same conclusion that she had. "Yeah well, at least I'm allowed to eat sugar."

She felt her face burn. How dare he bring that up! "At least I knew what do to when a little girl came around."

"Oh please, Tooth. You scared her worse than I could have ever."

"Did not!"

"Is enough!" thundered North, shoving his way between them.

In the silence that followed, they could hear Jack trying and failing to muffle his laughter. She grinned at Bunny and the pooka grinned back. Sandy flouted through North's legs, a big smile on his face. When he went to Jack, the frost child did not retreat this time. North, to his credit, seemed to catch on in that moment. He let out a booming laugh, bringing both fairy and pooka into a crushing hug. They were all relieved when North moved forward and Jack did not back away.

"It is clear that Jack is smartest. He saved us with child," North declared with authority.

Jack had gotten over his laughter at that point, and was looking between the four of them with genuine amusement and affection in his smile. "You guys are the worse," he laughed.

Sandy made a heart over his head. The translation was simple. The group hug that followed this time thankfully did not result in Jack running away. They would get him followers. It would not happen overnight; they all knew that. But they would sooner battle an army of nightmares again than let Jack remain as alone as he had been. That promise never needed to be spoken.

_Afterword: Fallen arch is still giving me issues. I'm trying to figure out what it wants from me, but it's like a child refused candy and is now pouting in a dark corner._

_In other news, guys, my inner gamer geek is freaking the frag out right now because ps4. And Watchdogs. And Killzone. And Destiny. And Bungie doing Destiny. For some reason I had not connected earlier that it was Bungie, as in Halo Bungie, doing a sci-fi space shooter. Had not connected it at all. But now I'm cool with it._

_So yeah. I gotta start saving up my money. I also need to go watch the rest of the live stream, because I completely missed the first hour and a half. Ta!_


	63. Broken Toes

_Set after the movie._

Jack was trying to get his attention. North knew it, he could see him hovering just outside the crowd of yetis. He would leap from the ground to banisters, to tables, to bits of architecture just big enough for a small person to perch on. He was trying to avoid being trampled, but he was also failing at getting North's attention.

The Russian was not ignoring him, exactly. He knew the boy wanted something, but he kept getting distracted. He was not doing it on purpose. There was some issue in the kitchen, and one in the paint room. Something had exploded on the experimentation deck and there was a technical issue with the sleigh, among other problems that the yetis were crowding him with. North had the feeling that the elves were responsible, but there was too much chaos for him to sort out what was needed where.

It took him close to an hour to thin the crowd into something a little more manageable. And then he simply resorted at yelling at the yetis to fill out complaint forms and then get back to work. He would solve each problem in order of importance.

He went into his office in hopes that he get a moment to breathe. He had barely closed the door when a soft knock could be heard. He turned a glare on the door and considered throwing something at it, but he placated himself with the fact that whoever it was had at least knocked.

He stalked back to the door, throwing it open with force and taking a step forward to prevent the yeti from muscling in. Except there wasn't a yeti waiting for him.

Something soft squishing beneath his boot and Jack let out a loud yell. He threw his whole body forward with enough force to make North stumble back. It was not until Jack limped away that he remembered that the boy had been trying to get his attention. And now the Russian had stepped on his foot.

Jack seemed to have forgotten whatever it was he wanted to tell him, or simply decided that after getting his toes crushed by a giant that it actually was not worth it. North felt suddenly guilty, going after the boy.

"Sorry, Jack. Did not know you would stand so close."

"Yeah well, I was afraid that if I didn't stand in the jam I would get ran over by a yeti." He was still trying to limp away. He dodged a yeti that was coming for North.

The Russian held up his hand and gave the beast a look that could catch his fur on fire. The yeti retreated. "What was it that you wanted, Jack?" North knew better than to ignore Jack for long. The boy knew the other Guardians were busy, and he was usually equally so. He had taken to trying for short times to get their attention, and then he would move on. They tried to make time for him; they knew he got lonely easily. The fact that he had been trying to get his attention for as long as he was, however, was a clear indicator that whatever it was it was important and most likely had nothing to do with himself.

"There was a sprite in the kitchen this morning. I tried to catch it when I found it, but I ended up freezing the lock on the sugar door, among other things. The elves broke it and went nuts."

He hopped up into a banister, his staff staying immobile in its upright position as the frost child examined his purpling toes. He wiggled each one separately, each of them cracking sickeningly. The larger man flinched for each one, and for every time Jack's breath hitched quietly in pain.

"I wanted to tell you that the elves needed to be rounded up before they caused some trouble, but they beat me to it. I froze as many as I could on my way up, but they're quick when they have sugar."

"They are opportunistic. I will inform yetis and have it taken care of. And the sprite?"

"I don't where it came from. It was a tree sprite. I thought it was a wood fairy at first, hoping to get into some toys and wait for Christmas so it could try to eat some poor kid or something. Then it tried to turn my face into a tree so… It's gone now. She burned herself out trying to combat my ice. Poor thing…"

He tried to wiggle his toes again, but it was obvious that it was hurting him too much, so he stopped.

"Are they broken?"

Jack looked up, confusion across his face at the seemingly out if the blue question. "Hmm? Oh, my toes. Yeah, a few of them. They'll be okay. I've done worse."

North frowned. "Perhaps we should make shoes."

Jack's eyes widened hilariously. "No! Please don't make me wear shoes."

The very fact that Jack actually thought that North could _make_ him do anything made the Russian laugh. Jack usually did stuff to please them, but if he personally disliked it, he would usually try to go against them discretely. Like the time they wanted to put a beacon on him. They ended up following a penguin around the South Pole for two days. Jack had tried to come retrieve it when it came time for him to meet up with the Guardians again, but they had beaten him to the poor animal.

"Is your choice. Perhaps help you, though."

"No, shoes are just plain annoying. They make my feet warm," he admitted him some embarrassment. "Besides, it easier to frost things when I have actual contact with it." He shrugged. "Shoes just get in the way. Besides, I don't think I ever wore shoes, even when I was a human."

North wanted to point out that Jack might not have broken his toes if he'd been wearing boots or something, but the problems the boy had set out for him would make boots impractical. North froze, his mind working through a sudden idea. Jack was a difficult person to give gifts to. He usually did not accept most things, and when he did, it was because he had honestly needed them, or they had some sort of emotional meaning. Otherwise he would bashfully refuse to take is until one of them left him little choice.

He told Jack shortly to not move before he rushed back to his office. He had been working on a material that deflected heat and absorbed cold. It was supposed to be a gift for Jack once he perfected the magic used to create it.

He pulled a strip of it from his table in his office, stuffing some in a small shoe that he was making for a child. He came back to Jack to find that the boy had obeyed his order, but was examining his foot again.

"Um North, didn't I just say that I-" He shut up when North pulled out a knife and started cutting off the bottom of the shoe, leaving only the top.

The Russian grabbed Jack's foot and pulled until the leg was straight. The motion almost toppled Jack off the banister and the boy made a wild grab for his staff. North put the shoe on, wrapping the toes gently in the anti-heat material. He took the shoelaces and tied the shoe around the bottom of his foot. He only did the one, examining his handy work before letting go.

Jack was looking rather indignant at that point, his expression somewhere between a scowl and wide-eyed bewilderment. "What-"

"Only until not broken," North assured him. "Protect the injury from further hurt." He smiled and turned around to offer Jack his back. "Piggy back down to the kitchen. Will you help me keep the elves from getting any more sugar?"

Jack did not like being dependent on others, and the prospect of wearing a half shoe _and_ getting a piggy back ride did not appeal to him much. He pushed off the banister and allowed himself to hoisted partially onto North's shoulders anyway. The Russian knew it was an act of trust, and every little bit he could get from Jack made him feel like he had accomplished a great feat. Besides, Jack weighed practically nothing anyway, and he would likely need the boy to keep the sugar-high elves at bay.

_Afterword: The ending was awkward but this one did not want to end. The fact that I've finally found a way to explain the difference between a sprite and a spirit means that it opens up a bunch of stuff I wanted to do. Fallen arch will continue next week. I'm going to finish it, I really will. Just get it over with and then it can pout for as long as it wants. I tried to be more thorough with the mistakes in this one. I'm sure I probably still missed a few, and for that I'm sorry. Anyway, I will see all of you on Monday. Have a splendid weekend. Ta!_


	64. Water Buckets

_Fallen Arch._

The reason behind the strange request of the water buckets was slowly becoming clearer. Jack needed a large chunk of ice for whatever he was planning. What it was, however, he was not very prompt in telling them. In fact, he was rather tight-lipped about the whole thing. So they sat on the back porch, Jamie and Sophie together while Jack swirled his arm around in a bucket for about ten minutes.

Suddenly he stood, his body rigid as if the water had bit him or something. He closed his eyes, his wet hand still held out over the bucket, palm down. With a flick of his wrist, the water leapt from the bucket and froze mid-air like some still shot picture. It sparkled with his magic, giving off a light of its own.

Jack's face was a picture of concentration. His body was rigid, his brows knitted together. He grimaced, as if in pain and the ice shattered. Jack flopped back, his legs giving out beneath him. Sophie was beside him in an instant, worry flooding across her face.

"Jack! Jack, are you okay?"

There was a long moment where the frost child was unresponsive, staring blankly up at the roof. He seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head and blinking furiously. He hunched forward, clutching his chest. He was in pain. Jamie felt a growing sense of urgency make him leap from the lawn chair to his side as well.

He gasped a few times before he was able to respond to both of their questioning looks. "I'm alright, I'm alright," he assured. "I just wasn't expecting it to take so much energy, is all." He laughed breathily. "It hurt more than I thought it would." He smiled at them, waving away their concern.

"No more magic stunts," Sophie scolded gently.

Jack gave her a challenging look, as if daring her to stop him. It did not have quite his usual fire, but that little bit made Jamie feel better. "If I don't get my staff back, Soph, it won't matter how little I do magic," he reminded her. He sat up, no longer using Sophie's arms to keep himself upright. "Did it work?" He peered into the bucket, a small smile brightening his face.

Sophie and Jamie crowded around to see. At the bottom of the bucket was a small curled form. As small as a baby, with the face of a toddler. His skin was blue, his hair a wild mop of snow white. His skin still shone with ice and magic. It took both humans a long moment of gawking before Jamie was able to pull his thoughts together.

"Jack, you had a kid." The amount of deadpan in his voice could have killed a horse.

Sophie giggled and Jack barked a loud laugh. The sound of their voices seemed to rouse the child from his sleep. His eyes blinked open, a brilliant blue like Jack's. He turned his head, slowly uncramping himself into a sitting position. He looked to the two humans, then to Jack.

He lifted a hand, waved at Jack and Jack waved back. They smiled at each other, a silent communication going between them.

"You know," Sophie started. "I'm not sure if this is so cool, or really gross. I mean, I used to have a crush on you. And here I find out that you can reproduce with a bucket of water."

Jack turned a glare on the woman, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. "I didn't produce him," Jack defended, looking very much embarrassed by the whole thing now. "I summoned him."

"What is he?" Jamie asked as the child looked between the three of them with a measure of confusion.

"He's a sprite. I told you earlier, spirits call on sprites to help them when they need more magical energy then they can currently release. Since I'm kind of limited to freezing water buckets, I decided to call for some help."

"What's his name?"

"How am I supposed to know? I suppose he hasn't given himself one yet."

They all looked at the child for a second and he stared back. He gave them a toothy grin, flouting up and out of the bucket with a grace that could be compared to Jack on a bad day. He wobbled in the air, and wobbled even more when he set himself down on his feet in front of him. Jack offered his hand to the child and when he nearly crumpled, he accepted it with a grateful smile.

"What's your name?" Jack asked gently, helping to keep him upright when he still wobbled on new legs.

It took him a moment to reply, and when he did it was garbled, the words jumbled in what Jamie guessed was either another language or him not being able to get words out correctly. The man realized it was the former when Jack replied in the same jumbled tongue. They exchanged a few words before Jack glanced at them.

"He hasn't decided on a name yet," Jack informed them.

"What language was that?" Jamie's inner scholar was going nuts with questions all of a sudden.

Jack shrugged. "I have no idea."

Jamie was about to contest that answer. How can Jack not know what language he was just speaking? But he deferred that for the moment. "How did you summon him like that? Was he alive before now or did you just create him?"

"I don't know how the summoning works, and he obviously wasn't alive in the sense we think of alive until just now, but I did not create him. I don't know how the sprite thing works, Jamie. It's weird and has to do with metaphysical realms and stuff."

Jamie opened his mouth to ask more, but a pointed look from Sophie shut him up. He smiled sheepishly at his sister. The sprite seemed to have gotten his feet by now, and was examining his surroundings. It was then that Jamie seemed to realize that the sprite was naked, but yet did not seemed to actually be naked. It was like he was wearing a jump suit, but it was his skin.

"Little friend," Jack called, gaining the sprite attention. "I need you now. Pay attention."

The child was all ears all of a sudden, his entire focus centered solely on Jack. It was then that Jamie realized that this was seriously its born purpose. To obey the commands of whomever summoned it. Jamie was not actually sure how he felt about that, but he suddenly understood why Jack was not too keen on being called a sprite. He wondered how much sentience was actually in the small being.

"I need you to retrieve Tabe. He should be somewhere in the southern hemisphere. Tell him I have an issue. He'll ask what you mean, don't specify. Just tell him where I am. Then I need you to give snow to sectors thirty-seven and forty-two. Got it?"

The sprite nodded and walked out from beneath the awning without a word. Jack watched as he seemed to do a pat down of his own body. It looked back at Jack and the winter spirit nodded encouragingly. With a flash on soft light that always accompanied Jack's magic, the sprite was gone out of thin air.

Jamie was nearly giddy with what he'd just seen. He had a million questions, but he seriously had just learned a lot about the spirit world. He turned to Jack in time to catch him as he slumped off to the side. Worry and fear chased away his questions. He glanced at Sophie, who nodded and fled back inside for a glass of water.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jack assured, trying and failing to bat Jamie away. "Just a little tired. I need a nap," he sighed.

"You were just asleep not that long ago," Jamie reasoned quietly, shifting Jack's weight so he could drag him inside a little easier.

"I know, but summoning takes a lot of energy. Using a little energy feels like I've used a lot. So now I'm drained. If you don't mind, I'd like to just lie down in a snowdrift for a while."

"Jack, who is Tabe?"

Jack looked up at him. "You've never met Tabe?"

Jamie shook his head, pulling Jack through the back door and into the house. He set him on the couch in time for Sophie to come back with a glass of water. "He's a big fat jerk who thinks he's hotter than he actually is." Jack accepted the glass and took a long drink "He's a seasonal spirit with my same size issue. He's also a lot older than me." Jack was fading fast, his words slurring together a little. He set the glass down on the coffee table when he nearly spilled it all over himself. "He'll know what to do. He always knows what to do." Jack was out before either human could ask him anymore questions.

_Afterword: Sometimes I wonder if I've ever sat down next to someone who's read my story. I saw a girl reading something on her phone today while I was writing this and thought randomly that it would be kind of weird to meet a stranger that's read my story. I wonder if I would live up to their mental image of me, if they even had one._

_Anyway, off to do other stuff. I may not be able to post consistently this week. Writer's block at my face this weekend and I seriously wrote a sentence when I should have been writing this week's chapters. I'm also sorry if the editing sucks. I did proofread it, but I probably missed a few more than usual._


	65. Stolen

_Fallen Arch._

Despite the fact that it was frigid outside, that all the windows were open, and that they had shut off the heater once the sun had come up high enough to start warming the air, the house felt suddenly warm. Jamie was honestly puzzled by that. Jack was still asleep on the couch. He had not moved an inch. Sophie doted over him and Jamie was left to make breakfast, which was quickly becoming lunch.

The breeze that came through the window was warm and carried the smells of soil and flowers. The first thing that came to Jamie's mind was 'Summer'.

He turned from the counter and nearly ran head long into a very strange looking man. His hood and scarf combination stopped Jamie from seeing much of his face except for his eyes. They were bright gold, shining with an amazing amount emotion. Mostly surprise in that moment.

"Hello," Jamie greeted, trying not to let the fright of the stranger's sudden appearance make his voice shake.

If Jamie thought the other was looking stunned before, it was nothing compared to how he was now. He took a stumbling step back, making an odd choking sound. He glanced behind himself to the kitchen door, then back to Jamie. He pointed a finger to his own chest.

"Who else would I be talking to?" Jamie reasoned.

"You can see me?" the other said, an Arabic sounding accent beneath well practiced English.

This conversation felt familiar somehow. "Yes, of course I can."

The amount of calm that Jamie radiated seemed to make the other uneasy. "Oh, well. Then I guess... This is a tad awkward. I'm here looking for Jack Frost." He must have seen the relief in Jamie's face all of a sudden because he seemed to finally relax his shoulders. He unwound the scarf from his face, tossing it over his shoulder instead. "You are a friend?"

"Yeah, you must be Tabe. He didn't mention you were a summer spirit," Jamie explained.

"No one specified that there would be human that could see me," he replied. "I'm sorry if I came across as rude."

Jamie felt bad for the other. This conversation was painfully awkward. "I'm Jamie, by the way." He gestured through the door in the direction of Jack and Sophie. "I'll take you to Jack."

The other nodded mutely, thankful for the excuse to simply stop talking. They moved into the living room, where Jack was still sprawled across the couch with Sophie nearby. She looked up at their entry, eyeing the stranger for a long moment.

Tabe shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching Sophie for any signs of acceptance. It took her a minute before she finally stopped examining him. "You must be Tabe," she said, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping boy on the couch.

The Persian nodded, attempting a charming smile, but it fell just short of awkward. Jamie almost laughed at his pure discomfort. He obviously had no idea how to deal with humans.

Sophie moved away from Jack so that the summer spirit would come closer. He moved around the couch to get a better look at his compatriot, his brow knitting together as he got a good look at him. Jack was sleeping peacefully, but there were dark circles beneath his eyes. Jamie frowned when he noticed them as well. They had not been there when he had gone into the kitchen.

"What happened?"

"He lost his staff. Says he was trying to play hacky-sack with the wind or something," Sophie supplied, crossing her arms across her chest unhappily.

Tabe passed her a look like she was crazy. "Lost his staff? Did it break?"

"No. Well, we don't know. We haven't found it yet."

Tabe nodded slowly, turning to look at the frost child. "Strange... Jack is not that stupid." He bent over Jack for a moment, shaking his shoulder to try and rouse him. Jack's face twisted in discomfort and an arm waved Tabe away groggily. The gold embroidery on Tabe's scarf glowed for the briefest of moments and Jack suddenly jackknifed up and vaulted over the back of the couch. It would have been a graceful maneuver if he'd been able to keep his balance upon landing. He ended up crumpled across the floor, patting down his arms as if they were on fire.

Tabe had the most feral grin on his face and Jack turned to give him the coldest glare that Jamie had ever seen on the boy. "I brought you here to help me, not burn me."

"How am I supposed to help you if you are sleeping, shepherd boy?" Tabe taunted. The glare-a-thon lasted for about a minute before Jack finally gave up and looked down at his blouse. He patted it down some more, straightening it, then started scanning the room for his cape. His eyes never went to Tabe again.

The glare on the other's face gentled at Jack obvious discomfort. He rolled his eyes walked around the couch to offer Jack his hand.

Sophie had an interesting look about her eyes, something that Jamie could not guess at. She moved across the living room herself, coming to stand next to her brother. "They really are opposite seasons," she said quietly. She was right. There was a type of friendly rivalry between the two that could easily threaten to be not so friendly. Jamie wondered if they ever went at it.

"So you lost your staff?"

Jack nodded, still not looking at the other. Tabe was giving him a hard look, as if he was expecting him to grow a second head.

"And you didn't call it to you?"

There was a beat of silence before the humans seemed to catch on to what the Persian had just said.

"You mean you can call your staff to you?" Sophie did not quite screech, but it was close. Jack opened his mouth to say something in rebuttal, but Sophie was not done yet. "You gave all of us this big scare, summoned a Baby Jack, and passed out twice. And you can just call your staff to you?"

"It's not that easy!" Jack tried again.

Tabe was looking at the woman with a measure of fear, taking a step away from Jack as if to say 'you're on your own'. Jack glared at him, finally looking at the Persian. Tabe's arms went up in a surrender motions, his face a picture of innocence.

"How was I supposed to know you hadn't told them everything?"

The glare did not let up in the slightest. "I can't call it to me. Don't you think I would have tried that by now?" He was looking at Tabe but it was obvious that he was talking to the two humans.

"You could have at least told us that you could do that. What does it mean, now?" Jamie asked.

"It means," Tabe started, then paused, a sigh escaping him. "That it was stolen."

The defeated slump of Jack's shoulders was enough for them to know just how much truth was behind Tabe's words.

_Afterword: This chapter was weird. Like it did not want to come out, but it did anyway. It came out deformed. And you guys made me paranoid. I'm looking at everyone now. It's weird. I'm the girl with the Dishonored hoodie. Just so you know. If you don't know what that is, look up 'dishonored outsider mark'. I have that on my chest. I'll be wearing it all day. ANYWAY! I'm off to go do stuff, like go to class. Ta!_


	66. Cries For Help

_Fallen Arch._

"Stolen?" Sophie echoed. Her voice seemed suddenly loud in the quiet that had fallen. "What does he mean by 'stolen', Jack?"

"What do you think he means?" Jack snapped, not looking at her. In fact, he was not looking at anyone, just staring intently at the carpet as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. He sighed, defeated and tired. "I was attacked. I don't know who or what."

Jack was usually so calm. Even when he was stressed out or troubled, he kept up his calm and good humor. Now, however, he seemed strained and irritated.

Tabe put a hand on his friend's shoulder, hoping to placate him. "We will find it," he promised.

Jack still did not look up. He did not seem at all relieved by that promise. "Whatever it was, Tabe, it was big, black, and it did something to my wind."

The Persian felt a drop of fear settle in his stomach. Not just at his words but at the light shake in Jack's voice. The winter child did not scare easily, but he was spooked by whatever it had been. There was also a sudden irrational worry for his own wind.

"Where is your wind now?" Tabe had noticed the absence of the other's semi-sentient companion.

"In the upper atmosphere. He's on the lookout; probably looking for me."

"Wouldn't the wind have seen where he fell?" Jamie asked.

"No," Tabe replied. "Because it does not see in the respect that we see. It feels energy, usually something akin to itself. Without Jack's staff, it can't feel him. It can't carry him, it can't find him." Tabe shrugged. "It's probably frantic by now. Sick with worry."

That finally elicited a small smile from the winter child. He finally looked up at Tabe, a faint hope glimmering in his eyes.

"We should tell your family," Tabe reasoned.

That hope vanished in a wink, replaced by trepidation.

"That's what we suggested," Sophie said from across the room where she stood next to her brother. "He refuses." She spoke as if talking about a wayward child.

"Well yeah I refuse!" Jack scolded. "They will seriously only make it worse." When Tabe rolled his eyes, Jack made an impatient sound at him. "I called you here to help me, not antagonize me."

"I am trying to help, but if you won't let the Guardians know, how are they supposed to help?"

"They're not going to help."

"What if this is a bigger deal than we realize. You said it yourself, Jack. It did something to your wind, whatever it was."

"And the only spirits that ride the winds are us, Tabe. Do you really want to Guardians up in your business, too? Ever since the whole Equinox fiasco, they've been weird about my 'nature'." He lowered his voice on the last word mockingly. "You remember how involved they got with that. They tried to kill you."

Tabe scoffed. "They didn't know who I was then."

Jack made an unhappy noise in his throat. "They should have."

Tabe did not actually have a response to that, instead remaining silent. In that moment, Jamie took the sudden break in conversation to ask his question. "What is the Equinox fiasco?"

Jack and Tabe looked at them as if they both had forgotten the humans were there. Jack was the first to speak. "We all found out what happens when a seasonal spirit doesn't do their job," he said darkly. Tabe made a face of discomfort, putting a little distance between himself and his counterpart.

"We need to stay on task," the summer spirit suddenly blurted out, stopping Jamie from asking any more questions. "Jack, you should plug up for the moment."

"What do you think I was doing when you got here?" he snapped, irritated.

Tabe muscled through the hostility, ignoring it or excusing it. "The first twenty-four hours shouldn't be that bad. If we still can't find who took it, then we'll find some way to release the pressure."

Jack seemed to lighten up at the prospect of a plan. "And the Guardians?"

"I'll concede your point this time around. I appreciate not bring liberated of my life for the time being."

Jack laughed. "Right. So what should we do?"

"Where's that sprite you had retrieve me?"

"Making snow."

Tabe gave him a look. "Why would you tell it to do that?" Jack did not answer, and Tabe did not give him much of a chance. He waved his hand at the other impatiently. "How long will it take for it to finish the task and come back?"

"I don't know; a day or so." Jack shrugged noncommittally.

"We don't have that much time." There was a certain command to his voice now, as if this was not the first time he had ordered Jack around. He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, turning to Jack again. "Why would you ask it to make snow? We need it."

"How was I supposed to know that? Besides, I haven't made any snow for more than twenty-four hours. I need to do something."

"How long ago did you lose it?"

"Yesterday morning."

There was a pause, then the Persian said something that sound like a curse. "Okay, okay," he said after a long moment. "Stay calm, we'll get through this."

"I am calm," Jack deadpanned, irritation just below the surface.

"I'm not," Tabe snapped. "This isn't all about you."

"Actually it kind of is, considering that it's _my_ staff that's been lost."

Tabe was about to retort again, his scarf starting to glow lightly. A very sharp ice dagger was suddenly formed in Jack's hand. They were stopped by Sophie clearing her throat.

"Boys, on task. We have an emergency. We don't have time for you two to fight."

Tabe looked at her, shrugging lightly. "He started it." When that only earned him a glare, he ducked his head and mumbled an apology. "We need to talk to your wind. Since you can't get to it, and I can't talk to it, that sprite was our best bet. I can try to see if my wind could talk to yours. Or maybe if I show myself to it, it will follow me down."

"I can call him back," Jack suddenly said.

"Who? The sprite?" When Jack nodded, Tabe shook his head. "No, bad idea. It's obvious you've already used too much power without your staff to begin with. You don't need to be using more."

"How else are we going to talk to my wind?"

Tabe was silent for a long moment, staring Jack down. With a long suffering sigh, he ducked his head into his hands and scrubbed his face in frustration. "I don't like this…" he said from between his hands.

"It'll be fine," Jack assured, even though he did not sound all that confident himself.

Tabe eyed him again, one hand never leaving the dark goatee on his chin. "If you die, I will personally bring you back so I can kill you myself."

Sophie did not like that. She made a noise from the door, coming forward to stand closer. Tabe took a wary step back, his eyes scanning her carefully.

"This can kill you?"

Jack waved a hand at her, a smile finally gracing his lips. It would have been more convincing if not for the dark shadows beneath his eyes. "I'll be fine. Tabe's exaggerating."

Jack stood a little straighter suddenly, his eyes hardening and his mind turning inward. Tabe took a step away and motioned for Sophie to do the same. All three of them were alert, watching Jack as if he was about to explode. The frost child extended a hand out in front of him, his magic seeping from his skin and into the air around him. It wound like tendrils of ice around him, lifting his hair and catching at his blouse. Tabe kept taking steps away every time one got too close for him personal comfort until he was standing next to both Jamie and Sophie.

With a pop and a loud fizzle that did not sound good, the sprite from earlier seemingly materialized, bringing an extra chill that had not been there previously. Jack and the sprite stared at each other for a single moment before the small boy let out an ear piercing cry, hunching in on itself in pain.

Jack choked, bringing an arm up to cover his mouth as something dark stained his sleeve. Tabe rushed forward, ignoring the whimpering sprite for its master. Jack wavered on his feet, his eyes still locked on the child. Blood dripped from his nose, past his lips in a slow trail. Sophie went to the boy, trying to stop its shrieks. Jamie was with Tabe, trying to lower Jack to the ground. His eyes were on the boy, but they were not clear. His body shook, his face twisting in pain. Despite the two male's efforts to get him to sit down, he kept trying to help Sophie comfort the child.

Tabe suddenly turned to Sophie. "We need to call the Guardians. Stay here and watch them, I'll-" Tabe didn't finish, Sophie suddenly standing and racing out of the room. Tabe starred after her, then at the writhing sprite.

"What's wrong with it?" Jamie asked, panic making his voice shake. He was having a hell of a time trying to get Jack to hold still.

Tabe looked between the ice beings before suddenly letting Jack go. Jamie did the same. They both watched in silence as Jack shoved himself forward and wrapped his arms around the crying sprite.

"It felt his pain. Sprites are always connected to their masters in some form or fashion. Whether physically or mentally. It appears theirs is physical. The child is feeling the same pain Jack is, Jack is just too worried about the child to care about the fact that he's in that much pain."

Sophie returned, a snow globe held protectively to her chest. Tabe's face lit up. He said something in Farsi, a nervous smile breaking through some of the panic.

Jack was no longer aware of them, holding the child to him as it cried. It had stopped shrieking, thankfully, but tears cuts paths across its blue skin. It trembled like a leaf, clinging to Jack's blouse as if it were the last comfort in the world. Jack's eyes were closed, his nose still bleeding.

"This was such a bad idea," Tabe remarked as he shuffled over to the two ice elementals. He examined the spirit for a moment, poking at his face. He got no response. "He's out," he informed the two humans. He was not even going to try to separate the child from him; it seemed too frail to even be touched. Tabe was afraid that it would break if he was not careful with it.

Jamie was on Jack other side a moment later, lifting him into his arms. Tabe would never let Jack live down being carried bridal style after he fainted. He prayed that he would get the chance to tease him about it.

Sophie looked to her brother and the summer spirit for confirmation before whispering into the glass and throwing it against the wall. The whoosh of the portal then next instance gave Tabe the distinct impression that he was about to be flushed down a toilet. The thought did not particularly excite him.

Sophie went through first, being the closest to the portal. Jamie, with Jack in his arms was next, leaping through and getting lost into the light. Tabe swallowed, sucked in a breath, and silently preyed that he wasn't leaping to his death.

He had never actually teleported this way before. He and Jack had a lot of ways to get from one place to another very quickly. And none of them involved the feeling of being shoved through a sock tunnel that was way too small for him and then tossed to and fro like a rag doll.

He came out the other side with less grace then he would ever admit to. He stumbled, his arms flailing. He was actually surprised that he had come out upright. He was not that way for long, pitching forward and falling flat on his face.

Looking up at the two humans found the male in a similar position. The woman had managed to miraculously land on her feet and was surveying the area they had ended up. Tabe looked away from her, shoving the irrational jealousy of her grace away for the moment. He scanned his surrounding, the awe of the moment suddenly catching up to him. He had only ever been in the complex once and he had been chased out by a crazy bird lady with swords that he later learned was supposed to be the kind and gentle tooth fairy.

He climbed to his feet, helping Jamie with Jack. Tabe was trying his damn well hardest not to look at the beautifully engraved wood, or the careful and meticulous tile work. His inner artist was going nuts. He never wanted his sketchbook more than in that moment.

Jamie also seemed to be having the same issue. His eyes were everywhere except on Jack, where they should have been. The room they had landed on was massive and circular. They were on a mezzanine and as Tabe turned to look at the whole room, he realized that there was a rather large rotating replica of the Earth. How he had missed that first time he was here, he had no idea. Its size was awesome, making the summer spirit feel dwarfed. It shone with millions of tiny, bright gold lights.

There was a fuzzed creature off to one side of where they had landed, staring at them. He was carrying a tray of what looked to be cookies. He was looking at them as if he'd just seen a ghost. Tabe could not help the giddy, nervous laugh that escaped him. He grinned at the yeti and waved cheekily.

It dropped the tray of cookies and took off in the opposite direction, yelling something in a garbled language. Tabe watched it go with something akin to forlorn amusement. Jamie had made it to his feet with Jack in his arms by then. The sprite had finally quieted to silent tears but it still clung to Jack's shirt as if he were a lifeline. Tabe wanted to run a soothing hand down the child's back, but he was still afraid it would shatter at the first touch.

The yeti returned only moments later, a Morningstar held in its claw and Santa Claus himself racing after him. Tabe grinned at the big man and was met with a sword to his throat in the next instance. Swallowing the grin in the face of death, Tabe eyed the sword, the steel glinting in the ambient light.

"What are you doing here?" the Russian snapped, gesturing with his sword to the two humans behind him. Tabe saw the moment when North saw Jack and the sprite in Jamie's arms, something between panic and a terrible fury hardening his eyes. "Who are they?"

"North," Sophie said gently, trying to calm the man into not killing the other season. "It's us." She gestured to herself, to Jamie, then opened her arms as if she wanted a hug.

North stared at her for the longest moment, his sword never leaving Tabe's throat. Then he seemed to finally recognize the two adults in front of him for the children they once were. The sword was lowered at last. His face broke from their hardened lines, a grin splitting his lips. "Sophie! Jamie!" He broke down into excited Russian for a moment before he sobered again. "What happened to Jack?"

Sophie looked to Tabe and suddenly the sword was back at his throat, making the Persian jump. He was not a bad swordsman himself, but North was a very large man. He had the advantage of strength and reach where Tabe only had agility. He wanted to avoid a fight if he could. "He lost his staff, something stole it. It wasn't me!" He added the last bit quickly when North's eyes narrowed. Tabe should have listened to Jack. This had been a really bad idea.

"Then what did?" North growled. He jabbed the sword forward lightly.

His wind had had just about enough of seeing its master threatened, filling the complex with arid air and lifting Tabe off the ground and away from North. The Persian took the opportunity to duck his arms into the many layers of his clothes, not relaxing any until he felt the comforting shape of the hilt of his scimitar in his palm. If it came to a fight, at the very least he could draw before the Russian skewered him.

"We don't know," Tabe finally answered, his wind keeping him aloft. North's sword tip was tacking him in the air, waiting for the moment to strike. "Jack was trying to summon a sprite to help us look when he fainted. He's in bad shape. We thought maybe you could help."

There was a long moment where the two swordsmen stared at each other. North lowered his weapon at last and the wind set Tabe gently on the tiles again. The Persian kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, shifting in a way so that his clothes parted to reveal the weapon at his hip. North took the hint and sheathed his blade and Tabe finally let his arms drop.

North turned to the yeti. "Activate the Borealis. We will need others." He turned to regard to the others. "Pitch?" he asked.

Tabe shook his head. "I'm not sure. He didn't know who it was either."

The Russian made a motion to the sprite in Jack's arms. "What about that?"

"I'd say it's safe to say that they are both in a lot of pain." Tabe suddenly sighed. The tension a moment ago had honestly tired him out. Now that it was passed, he felt drained. Looking back at his counterpart, he felt a curl of fear settle in his stomach. A hundred fears and doubts threatened his mind. What if they couldn't save him? The other winter spirits had retired. They'd given up their abilities over the weather decades ago. Jack was the only one left that had them. Without him the world would fall out of balance. Things would go crazy, and Tabe really did not want to deal with that again. Once was enough, thank you.

North had shoved past him during his musing and was gently taking Jack from Jamie's arms. The Russian man was brave, but even he could not hide the glimmer of fear in his eyes. Tabe swallowed thickly, his hands curling into fists. They would save Jack. Tabe was not about to give up and he would make sure that no one else would.

Above him the globe shifted, a deep bellow from deep inside it thrumming through the room. The summer spirit looked up at it as a wash of colors reached out across the sky. He hoped that would bring them a solution.

_Afterword: Guys! This was a long chapter. That had not been my intention when I started! But here you go anyway. It was like, oh hey, we got to this point, and then it was all, but we can to that point if you want! So I did. That made no sense, I'm sorry._


	67. Gone with the Wind

_Fallen Arch_

Santoff Claussen was a mad house. Simply put, things had only gotten worse as the situation came to light. Tabe was surprisingly helpful, and that was the only reason Bunny was not kicking his ass into next week. He never liked the guy, always found him too arrogant. It was obvious that whatever was going on with Jack, Tabe earnestly wanted to help fix it.

"So in other words," Bunny tried to clarify for the few yetis that were having a hard time keeping up. "If we don't get Jack's staff back, we could have an exploding ice spirit on our hands?"

"Yeah, pretty much. As long as he doesn't use anymore of his power, we shouldn't have to worry him burning out. But keeping his powers contained could mean an explosion if we're not quick in fixing this. But been more than twenty-four hours and he's been using his powers."

"You mean when he summoned that sprite?"

"I think he also called for him familiar as well. That penguin."

"Oh, so that's what that thing was…" Bunny said more for himself than anything else. He knew Jack was not a fan of relying on others for help. The proof of that was in the mere fact that it had taken them this long to find out that their youngest Guardian was in trouble.

"How long do we have?" North asked. He was thinking, Bunny could see it. His expression was hard, his eyes far away and contemplative.

"I'd say another two or three days before the damage starts being irreparable."

"He's going to shut off his powers?" Bunny made a face, remembering the last time that happened and all the _wonderful_ details he had learned from that experience.

"He doesn't have a choice," Tabe answered. "The energy doesn't have the safe venue that it would flow through normally. If he walls it up inside him, he'll last longer. If he doesn't, he'll burn himself out and fade."

Bunny scrubbed his face, frustrated and angry. "Why haven't we learned about this before?"

"Why would he tell you this stuff? He hardly knows it himself. Besides," Tabe added flippantly, "you weren't all that active in finding this stuff out yourself until a few years ago."

Bunny was about to retort when Jamie broke in. "The Equinox Fiasco?"

There was silence suddenly as all the spirits in the room looked at each other uncomfortably. "That's why we think it might be Pitch again." Tooth said quietly from where she was fluttering beside Sandy.

"What happened?"

Bunny looked at Tabe and Persian shook his head, not wanting anything to do with this. The pooka turned to look at the humans again. "Jack and Tabe are the shepherds of their seasons. What happens when there ain't any shepherds?"

Sophie shook her head in confusion, unsure of how to answer.

"The sheep will stray," Tabe answered darkly.

The woman suddenly perked up, recognition in her eyes. "That year we had the blizzard in September! I remember that. I asked Jack about it, but he said he didn't know anything about it. I thought that answer was kind of fishy." She added the last part more to herself but still loud enough for the rest of the room to hear.

"What did Pitch do that time?" Jamie asked.

Tooth was the one to answer. "The last time Pitch zeroed in on him, Jack almost killed him. Pitch crippled all of us, we weren't expecting it."

Jamie baulked. "_Jack_ almost killed _Pitch_? I feel like I've missed so much…"

Sophie put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Don't let it get you down," she commented snidely.

He looked at her. "You knew about that one?"

"Kind of. Jack had almost told me about it once. I was still a teenager at the time, I think. I got that the gist of it before he clammed up, as is his usual response to prying."

Bunny snorted at that. "Yeah well, Pitch isn't known for making the same mistake twice. He learned from that time that if he wants to survive his next attacks that he had to get Jack out of the way. He knew that he had to physically cripple him before he could do it mentally. He almost succeeded."

"You're welcome!" Tabe called from his corner of the room, earning himself a glare from Bunny.

The conversation was not able to go any further, a yeti suddenly charging into the room and yelling incoherently. North was the only one that seemed to make any sense of the garbled speech, his eyes getting wider and wider at the beast went on.

"Jack and sprite are gone!"

There was a beat of silence before the whole room went nuts. North led the way back up to Jack's spare room, the others following behind him like a stampede. It took them only moments to get there, North shoving the door open with more force than necessary.

There was something hopeless about the room. Something hollow that frightened all of them. Bunny was not sure if it was the cold breeze that ruffled the papers on the desk in the corner, or because that was the only sound. He was not sure if it was how empty the bed looked with the covers mussed, as if Jack and the sprite had left in a hurry.

Tabe shoved past North, squeezing between the giant Russian and Bunny. He examined the room briefly, looking at all the walls as if Jack was going to come melting out of them. "He must have teleported," the summer spirit remarked.

"Really? And here I thought he melted into the snow," Bunny quipped sarcastically.

Tabe looked at him sharply, a darkness in his eyes that surprised the pooka. "Don't say stuff like that lest it actually happen."

"Sorry if I think that stating the obvious is completely unhelpful."

Tabe was not listening to him anymore. He had moved to the window, which they had left open to bring in the chilled air from outside. He was leaning half way out, trying to look at something across the roof top. Bunny had the sudden urge to push him out but he knew that it would not help them any. The other three Guardians had ventured into the room and were examining the bed, table, and desk for signs of where Jack could have gone. There was not even a layer of frost that could have shown them if he's climbed out the window first or if he'd just up and poofed away.

Bunny growled in frustration, feeling anger and desperation bubble uncontrollably to the surface. This whole situation was out of control. He flung his rage at the first thing he could, ending up punching the solid wood wall. He ignored the frightened glance both Sandy and Tooth passed him. He ignored the fresh pain in his hand, letting the throb clear his head for a moment. "Tabe, what do we do now?"

Tabe did not look back him, still halfway out the window. "We look for him," he answered simply then was sucked outside by his wind and into the arctic morning.

_Afterword: Another deformed and twitching chapter. This chapter kind of feels like a filler to me and I'm sorry. I really am. I also couldn't resist the title. It makes me laugh a little. The next chapter will be long, and will be posted between tomorrow and Sunday. Next one is also the last one, I swear guys. I'm so done with this arch. I will never do a long arch again without planning it out better. I forgot to mention, because I forgot it was there, there will be an Equinox Arch. I'm fiddling with the details of it. I've been reading a lot of Pitch-manipulates-Jack-like-a-puppet stories and I want an arch like that and I'm too lazy to do an AU. Also, Tabe has grown a backstory when I wasn't looking, the little bastard. Now I don't know what to do with him. On another note, I have the directory ready to go. I just have to move it around and put it up. You can expect to see it tonight or tomorrow. Now, I'm off to go drown myself in AssCreed DLC goodness. Ta!_


	68. Seeping Through the Cracks

_Fallen Arch._

Teleporting was kind of like walking down a tunnel and watching the world change. One moment they were on a snowcapped mountain and the next they were walking across a summer glade and the moment after they trudged through hell on earth. It was a slow process from the teleporter's standpoint, but it was really only time being bent out of shape. To the observer it was only seconds. Teleportation was a very exact science. It required constant manipulation of the environment, and careful concentration or you could end up on another planet or a different dimension altogether. While the teleporter saw the world stretch and change, the observer only saw him disappear.

Jack did not think he could keep up the changes very well, and was glad the sprite was leading. He had begun to call himself Klein, which made Jack happy. The bond between a sprite and its master was often a very fragile thing. It would only last for a week at most. It always started strong and grew weaker and weaker until it snapped. By then, neither would feel it. The bond between Jack and Klein was still young and strong. The fact that the sprite had had the initiative to give himself a name was a sign that it was beginning to weaken. Jack could also see it in how the quickly the sprite had started to recover.

Jack was still in pain. Everything ached like he just gone three rounds with Pitch and lost. His chest burned like someone had rubbed all of his insides with sandpaper. The sprite was looking a bit spryer as time went on. He would run ahead to check on things, but always wait for Jack to catch up. He knew that he could not stray too far from his master or the paths they were taking would divulge and they would have a heck of time finding each other again.

They could not afford the time delay at the moment. They were on a mission. Gunter had called a summons. Jack and Klein both could feel it like an incurable itch beneath the skin. It was strong, which usually meant that it was urgent. Jack knew the penguin very well. If she was calling him, it meant that she had found his staff. The thought of having his conduit back made his heart flutter in relief. It was like a piece of himself was missing. He had not felt like this since that time Pith had broken it and the Guardians had kept the pieces from him. Then had been different in the fact that he was recovering from a break so it had taken longer for the effects of the separation to catch up to him.

As he followed Klein through the tunnel and its ever changing worlds, he felt his body grow heavier. It was like a terrible weight was slowly settling onto his shoulders and into his limbs. He felt a sickness seeping into his mind, on its heels a swift exhaustion followed. But every time he stumbled, Klein was there to keep him from falling. The sprite was always beside him the moment he needed him, it felt like.

Jack knew the moment they left the tunnel and came out into the real world. The dreaminess seeped away from his vision and the world solidified sharply. The air was cold here, but it was not the kind that was gentle. It was not his.

He had mere seconds to glance around him before the assault came, knocking him from his feet and the air from his lungs. He heard Klein cry out in pain and terror as he thrashed against the darkness that engulfed him. It was like something was trying to rip his heart from his chest. The darkness filled his lungs like icy water, choking him. He heard someone screaming in terror but could not tell if it was himself or Klein.

There was something nagging at the back of his mind, something telling him that this was his fault. It was carried by the voice of a woman and he knew instantly that it was not Pitch. With that careful thought in his head, he was able to push away the panic that threatened to drown him. He shut down the barriers inside himself, let them crumble to dust as the energy rushed out. It burned as it left his body. The pain clouded his mind, but he could see the darkness starting to recede.

A barrier to keep the blackness at bay was set up. Jack was able to see the writhing mass around him. It only confirmed in his mind that this was not fear he was fighting. It was Death. The willowy remnants of lost souls howled like a forsaken wind, pounding on his barrier, hungry for him.

Jack clambered to his feet, his knees wobbling beneath him but they held strong for the moment. He glanced around again, careful not to let his concentration stray too far from holding up the barrier. Klein was only a short distance away, thankfully inside the barrier as well. He was recovering slowly, looking shaken. There was a gleam of fright in his eyes that Jack knew probably shown in his own.

The sprite cast about him briefly, his eyes locking with Jack's in instant understanding. They were facing Hel, the goddess of death. She had it within her power to suck the life from both of them, and yet here they still stood. Either her intention was not to kill them, or she was giving them a chance to fight for their lives. Whatever the answer was, Jack was not about to questions her motives until either of them were out of the immediate danger.

Jack could feel his staff nearby, and he could feel Gunter's presence on the edge of his mind. They were both here somewhere, and judging by how quickly Hel had overtaken both of them, it was a safe bet that she knew they were coming.

They saw her the moment she rose above the sea of souls. She was willowy like the creatures that did her bidding, darkness followed her like a friend, shrouding her and protecting her from any attack Jack could possibly give. She rose above them, standing on a landslide of darkness. In one claw was Gunter, dangling from her hand like a limp doll. In the other was Jack's staff.

The frost child felt his heart stop in his chest for a second, fear gripping him. He could not see what emotions were in her eyes. She merely observed them as one watched a boring infomercial. Klein saw the staff in her hands and hesitated for only a second on the sight of Gunter. The child had never seen the penguin before, but he knew the importance of her, and of another life.

The moment's hesitation ended and Klein jumped into the air with a flash of energy scattering behind him. He never got close enough. Hel dropped Gunter, darkness forming in her hand, her eyes watching the charging sprite with critical eyes. The darkness solidified, sharpening. Hel aimed and threw.

Jack felt it as it pierced the small body as if it were his own. He watched as Klein's eyes went wide, shining with terror and surprise. Jack knew he had cried out, but he could not recall anything past that fleeting feeling of falling.

The barrier cracked with a terrifying snap that resonated through his entire body. Something inside him broke. Agony raced through all of his limbs but all he could do was watch as Klein fell to the ground. He rushed to the child's side as death seeped through the cracks.

_Afterword: I'm sorry, I lied. I thought this was going to be the last one. But after two days of fighting with it, the last half of this chapter was not sounding right. So I gave up and decided to give you a cliffhanger instead. Aren't you happy to I'm posting this today? That way you get the actual conclusion tomorrow, instead of two days from now._


	69. Neglect

_Fallen Arc._

He picked Klein up into his arms, careful not to jostle the child too much. The sprite gasped for air as if it were being drowned. Fear shone in his eyes, clouding the ice blue. He was looking at Jack as if his master were going to save him. A small hand grasped at Jack's blouse.

Hel was beside him, looking over his shoulder like this was some kind of spectacle. He would have spun on her and attacked if he wasn't holding Klein to his chest. He growled at her, rage bubbling up from somewhere dark inside him.

"Why are you doing this?" he yelled over the wail of the souls beating against his barrier.

Her head cocked slightly as Jack looked up at her. He had never been this close to her before. Aegir always told him she was scary, but he never really believed him until now. From afar it looked as if she had a normal face, but this close Jack could only see a skull. Her skin was so thin and stretched that he could see the contours of her bones. Her eyes were black and pupil-less but the winter child could tell she was looking at him, assessing and judging.

Her lips stretched sickeningly over her teeth in what Jack thought could be a smile. It was hungry and feral and above all else, it was _angry._ "Why am I doing this?" She spoke quietly but it was if there were a hundred voices speaking behind hers. The words echoed around him as if the masses beating against his barriers and slipping through the growing cracks had echoed the words.

"What have I done to deserve this?"

She appeared to smirk flippantly, but her form was wavering as if she couldn't hold it very well. "You are a special child. You escaped my clutches before I could come to claim you," she said softly. She leaned down slowly, her body creaking and cracking as if bones were breaking beneath the shadows she wore. She only stopped when her face was mere inches from Jack's own. Terror coursed through Jack but he refused back down, he refused to look away. He refused to blanch as her putrid breath, like corpses. Strands of stringy hair escaped the hood, her eyes gleaming in the shadows it cast.

"You're angry because I didn't die?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I'm angry because you neglect us."

"I neglected you? How did I neglect you?"

The souls howled suddenly as if in pain. Jack wanted to look and see but he did not dare take his eyes off of Hel's depthless ones. Her eyes still held a critical gleam to them, as if she were waiting for something. "You think that now that you're a Guardian that you can simply forget? All those times I stood up for you." She said the last bit mournfully, as if mother had been wronged by her child.

"You stood up for me?"

"Yes, of course I did. All those times you were attacked by other spirits, I made them pay for it. I do that with everyone. But you, child, were the only one to grow to be a Guardian."

She suddenly straightened, a bony hand coming from the darkness to flick at the souls seeping through the breaks in Jack's barrier. The receded like oil, skittering across the ground as if pulled down hill by gravity. Jack allowed the barrier to drop, the pain in his chest lightening slightly as he did. He left out a nearly silent sigh of relief.

Jack was busy looking about himself that he nearly missed when Hel leaned down again and waved her hand over the sprite. The spike vanished and Klein gasped, eyeing her as if she were a hungry wolf. She smirked down at the smaller boy. Klein whimpered and tried to hide himself inside of Jack's cape.

"The spike was not lethal, he will heal within the day," she told them.

"Hel, I don't understand. What was this all for?"

"To remind you," her voice sounded almost human now. The echoes from the lingering souls were quiet, but still disconcerting. "You needed to be reminded that we are still here Jack. There are still spirits that were like you, alone and unwanted. They need help, child, and now you have the influence to help them."

From the darkness that was her own body, she pulled his staff and a very roughed up looking Gunter. The penguin squawked indignantly when she came out into the light again, struggling against the iron grip Hel had around her.

Jack almost reached for his treasure item and his loyal familiar, but there was something in her expression that made Jack hesitate. She was waiting for something. Jack was usually very prideful. He disliked having to apologize and admit that he'd been wrong. It was what had started a lot of arguments with Bunnymund. Right now, however, Jack was tired and his insides felt like they were threatening to start spilling out. He was willing to swallow his pride for this woman, only because he did not want to incite her wrath again. Deep down inside, he knew she was right, even if he really did not want to admit it.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

There were several moments of silence as she seemed to contemplate him; assessing, judging, and it made Jack uncomfortable. Finally she smiled that ugly smile again and handed Jack his staff back. She set the penguin down with surprising gentleness and Jack was quick to scoop up both; his staff to try and ease the ache in his body, and Gunter to prevent any retaliation the creature had in store.

"Keep my words in mind, child," she warned one final time before the world around Jack turned to darkness.

At first, Jack panicked but time passed and Jack was unsure if it was seconds or hours. He knew not where he was or where he was going, but he had the fleeting sense of movement. Klein clung to his side, his tiny fingers twisted into the fabric of his blouse while his body was almost completely covered by Jack's cloak. Jack had released Gunter and after a few more indignant squawks that roughly translated into a few choice insults to the death goddess, the emperor penguin had climbed into his lap and had fallen quiet. Jack clung to his staff, feeling the ebb of flow of his powers slowly return. The aches and pains in his body were still present, but they were lessening. He felt drained, his head light and drowsy, but he was not a fan of darkness. It reminded him of too many past nightmares that he dared not close his eyes and let sleep take him.

There was a rushing sound that came from behind Jack, following behind it was the familiar whispers of the wind. Jack sighed deep as his oldest friend rushed through him, scattering the darkness until all was left was light and pristine snow. The wind rushed around him; not enough to pick him up, but Jack could feel its excitement and relief.

Jack laughed quietly, falling to his side into the snowdrift. He'd never been so grateful for a soft packing of fresh snow before. Klein curled up against his back and Gunter against his chest. He clung to his precious conduit as the wind blanketed him in a sense of safety. He let his eyes slide closed and allowed sweet sleep to take him.

Bunny did not like the fact that it was Tabe who had found him. Something to do with a fox and some jargon about how familiars work. Weather spirits were a strange bunch, accepting animals to be their friends or whatever.

But it was Tabe who found Jack. They had been walking across the snow plain around Santoff Claussen when the summer spirit had suddenly veered off in another direction at a jog. At first they had all thought it was because the guy had had enough of the cold, considering that he'd been complaining louder than Bunny did after only five minutes.

They had followed him anyway, and had not realized what was happening until suddenly they were walking through a burnt forest. Bunny had shivered at the eerie quiet and the two humans were looking a little on the verge of panic. North had tried to stop the summer spirit, but Tabe seemed to be on a mission, his eyes glued to whatever path he seemed to see. After only a few moments they started walking up a hill and the trees had thinned out to nearly nothing.

Nearly to the peak, Bunny realized that his feet had started to sink into sand. He looked down at the golden ground beneath him, then to the forest behind them only to realize that the forest they had been in only moments ago was now a desert that stretched on forever.

The pooka let out a whistle, actually kind of amazed by this whole thing. He turned and continued to follow the summer spirit. He caught up to Sophie, who was looking around her a little bit like a kid in a candy store. While she had been on verge of panic moments ago, she seemed to have gotten over it. Jamie was still looking a little spooked. Adults had a harder time believing in the seemingly impossible these days and Bunny understood that. He patted the male on the back, smiling encouragingly. Jamie smiled back, but it was fleeting and nervous.

They were in the desert for longer than they were in the burned forest, and somewhere along the way a fox had joined them. Bunny was not sure when he had first noticed the little thing; only that it had started out looking a little translucent, as if it weren't all there yet, but grew more and more solid as they progressed.

The desert abruptly changed, but for some reason, Bunny did not see when the desert had ended. All he knew was that suddenly they were in a snow covered glade. The snow here was fresh and still falling. There was no wind, and the flakes fell gently. There was a muffled silence that spoke of peace and sleep and Bunny felt like he was ruining it.

He held out his paw for a snowflake, watching as it stayed on the pad of his palm for a moment, just enough time for the pooka to catch a glimpse of the delicate pattern. "This is Frostbite's snow," he said softly, feeling that if he spoke too loud the silence would shatter. He could not help the excited lilt in his own voice, or how it fluttered out on his breath in relief. He hadn't really cared. They were all worried about the little winter spirit.

At his voice, something in the snow a few feet away started to move, then suddenly a little white head of hair and childish blue face peeked up above a mound of snow. Bunny laughed as the sprite blinked at them owlishly from a distance, then untangled himself from the white cloth that Bunny knew was Jack's cloak. The child rose shakily to his feet, a hand held over a dark mark on his abdomen. He climbed up onto the snow and walked over to them, slowly at first, then he seemed to recognize who they were.

His face lit up and he ran the last couple of steps, running to Jamie and Sophie and hugging the man's leg. Jamie laughed lightly and stooped to pluck the sprite off the ground.

"Where's Jack?" Jamie asked gently.

The sprite was looking a little sleepy, as if he'd just woken up from a nap. He rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other pointed to the mound he had crawled out of. Bunny did not wait a second longer, crouching onto four legs and bounding over to the drift in three leaps. Sure enough, there was Jack, curled around a penguin, his staff clutched in his hand. Bunny let out a sigh of relief, for the moment forgoing his curiosity on how Jack had gotten it back.

He moved to wake the spirit up but the penguin suddenly twisted in the boy's arms and snapped at him. Bunny had the impression that it was giving him an entirely bemused look and he retreated for the moment. By the time the rest of them had made it over, the sprite had fallen asleep on Jamie's shoulder.

Tooth smiled in relief, fluttering over to Jack and pointedly ignoring the glare she received from the penguin when she touched the winter child's face gently. North was on the other side of Jack a moment later, making Bunny back off as he picked the slumbering boy out of the snow, penguin and staff and all.

There was a moment when Jack shifted, but then he just curled into the velvet of North's coat, holding Gunter like a teddy bear.

Bunny had just enough time to turn and see Tabe smile gently at the scene before he and the fox turned and walked away. Like how the fox had appeared, the simply faded into the background, gone from sight altogether.

Bunny knew the summer spirit was giving them room, and he appreciated that. For a usually sarcastic, cocky, rude, arrogant little jackass, Bunny was starting to like the little Persian man. With a quiet sigh that only he could hear, Bunny turned and followed North through his portal and back to the North Pole.

_Afterword: Obviously there is the potential for more chapters in this particular arc, but I'm done with it for now. Maybe in a few months or something. Or after the Equinox arc, which I need to start planning in earnest. I'm working another idea right now and it's seriously distracting me. If you follow my tumblr, you may have an idea of what I'm working on, but I'm going to be relatively tightlipped about this for now. It won't be a part of the Invisible universe, and that's all I'm going to say._

_I feel like I should be making a joke about the number but I'm going to refrain because I'm mature (sometimes). Something I forgot to mention in the last chapter, Klein means 'small' in German, in case you were curious. I couldn't decide on a name and I almost named him Mini. If I ever post the deleted scene from the last chapter, you'll see that I called him Mini._

_I'm sorry that this chapter was so late guys. I know that some people won't be getting this until Tuesday, and I apologize. I had not meant to take so long but I got no chance to write this morning and so I did it in the afternoon, I nearly ran out of time, and this chapter was already giving me issue… Anyway, enough complaining. I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm done with arcs for the moment and will be doing some simple one or two chapter things for a while. This was the longest arc yet, coming in at ten chapters. I know it could have had its own story, but it's a part of the Invisible storyline and I plan to keep it here sanity's sake. Of both myself and for you guys._

_The directory has made it. It's in my profile. I will update it every Friday. I will eventually tag all the chapters for the arcs they belong to, so don't worry about that. I think this A/N has gone on long enough. Ta for now, guys._


	70. Blood Against the Snow

_Set before the movie._

There was something in the snow that stopped Jack dead in his tracks. There was still a light snowfall sinking from the sky, left over from the blizzard that had wreaked havoc for two days. The silence was unbearable, the stark whites and blacks swallowing any color from the landscape.

There was something in the snow, propped up against the trunk of a skeleton tree. A dark lump, still as stone. Something red sat against the snow, a splash of paint in a colorless world.

Jack stepped closer, curiosity and a deep foreboding egging him forward. It took him a moment to realize that it was a person. A light laugh escapes the boy, nervous and weak. "You scared me. I thought you were a monster or something." He knew that they would never hear him, but it made him feel better to pretend that they would. He took another step forward, leaning on his staff. "You shouldn't sleep in the snow. You could get sick."

Jack moved a little closer, crouching to get a look at the bowed face, hidden beneath a mud brown furred hood and a stark red scarf, which had blown loose in the blizzard gales and now rested against the man's shoulder and in the snow. Jack froze in place, horror dawning across his face. The man's face was several sickening shades of purple and blue, his lips cracked and frozen. There was a long moment where could not think, could not move, could not _feel _anything. He slumped forward until he was sitting on his knees in front of the man.

"Dea-" He couldn't say it, the words choked in his throat. He swallowed thickly, feeling sick. Covering his mouth, his eyes burned with tears.

"Di-did I do this…?"

The child, for he was hardly older than Jack looked, had frozen to death. Slumped against the tree, snow slowly covering him. He must have gotten too tired to carry on; he had sat down for a rest, fallen asleep with the snow's icy grip threatening him. The cold had killed him. _Jack_ had killed him.

The red scarf stood out like blood against the snow. Jack stared at it, tears falling from his eyes unbidden. He could not bear to look at the child. He couldn't bear to see what he had done in his own fit of anger. He was selfish. He had killed someone because he had been upset.

He looked at his own hands, the hands of a murderer. He never wanted to scream and cry more than in that moment. He wanted to fall into the snow and never get back up. He wondered how many people would benefit if he disappeared forever. He wondered how many people he had killed in the past.

Was this why other spirits did not like him? Is this why he was attacked when he got too close to them or the places they protected? He was a monster, a murderer. He killed someone, accidentally or not. This was his fault.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean- I didn't want-" He choked on a hasty inhale. His body hurt like someone had pounded him into a tree, his chest burned. His head throbbed to the beat of his own heart but he did not care about all of that.

All he cared about was that this child had died, that it was his fault. Every harsh word that he had received, every refusal and rejection, he deserved all of it. He was a monster, a murderer. This was why spirits hated him, why humans feared winter. He was not a blessing to anyone. He was not one of the good guys. He was bad. He was evil. He hurt and killed people. He understood now why he had to be alone. He understood a lot of things all of a sudden. He did not deserve to be happy or content.

Not even the wind could comfort him but eventually his sobs quieted into gentle whimpers. There was no strength left in his body, he was so tired. He still pulled himself to his feet, cleared a spot in the snow and dragged the boy to lay flat on his back in the ring he made. He did it by hand. He dare not use his staff, dare not take the easy way out. He covered the boy with snow, pristine and white. He left the scarf for last, tying it to a fallen branch and freezing it to the ground so that the torn cloth would flutter in the wind like a lonely flag. It would stay that way until summer came to melt his snow. The red would stay as a stark reminder of what Jack had done. The red against the white; blood against the snow.

_Afterword: I imagine Jack has a fair number of self-esteem issues. I think some of it stems from him realizing just how dangerous his powers are. Anyway, here you go. Little angst chapter. Hope you enjoyed. Ta!_


	71. Indignant Wannabees

_Set right after the movie._

North saw this coming. He knew it would happen the moment the hologram above the crystal showed them all Jack Frost. He knew that the Man in the Moon was taking a huge risk by choosing Jack. It was unfortunate that it was North that, as the de facto leader of the Guardians, had to deal with the fall out.

So this was how he found himself sitting in his office, talking to some uppity old-world spirit that had a serious problem with Jack. It was not like Jack had ever done anything to him, only that he just did not like him.

"I think it is foolish that Jack Frost, of all the spirits, is to become a Guardian. Some of us," by some he meant himself, "have been working very to get into this fold. I have done much for the Guardians, why didn't you choose me?"

"I appreciate all of help you give us over decades. I do not forget," North tried to placate. "But we do not choose. Man in Moon chooses. You know that, Osiris."

"Man in the Moon is not a god, North. He makes mistakes just like the rest of us. I say he's made a mistake with Jack. That boy has only caused trouble and messes, and being a Guardian will not change that. He's a menace to be in such an influential position."

North was a very patient man, which surprised a lot of people. It took quite a bit of egging to get him angry. But keeping his cool while this ancient spirit went on and on about how Jack was bad, when really the kid was just doing what he'd been created to, was really starting to grind on the Russian's nerves.

"Jack is not menace-" North started but the Egyptian cut him off with a flick of his hand.

"Oh please, North. How many blizzards does he start in a year?"

"However many Mother Nature tells him to."

"Yes, but how much damage does he do?"

"Less damage then if storm was left alone."

"Ha!" the other barked sarcastically. "I think that is hardly the case, North." Osiris shook his head as if North were a child in need of a lesson. "Did you know that people die in winter?"

Yes, North was well aware of that. That was rarely, if ever, Jack's fault. Humans were careless creatures. They were fragile. That was why there was so many. North nodded anyway, humoring the old man. "What do you suppose we do then?"

Osiris actually looked a little surprised by that question, looking like a ruffled bird for a fraction of a second before he recovered. "I say we strip him of his rank as Guardian, put him somewhere out of the way, and give the honor to _someone_ _else._" The way he said the last bit tipped the Russian off as to who exactly 'someone' was. "Jack Frost doesn't deserve the honor, nor will he ever. Ice spirits are too volatile to be anything but a necessary evil." He examined his fingers in boredom.

The door opened suddenly, Phil standing in the entranceway. A cold wind rushed in past the yeti's legs, chilling the room and frosting the windows. The Russian caught a fleeting of glance of Jack as he vaulted over the mezzanine railing. Phil was looking particularly distressed, gesturing to the sides of his head.

North paled. The doors could be thin around here. It was easy to hear conversation through the glass. North gestured for Phil to find Jack while he turned his attention to the Egyptian. Osiris was looking particularly amused by this whole thing.

"It would seem he's as flighty as the rest of his kind. I wonder how well that will work out for you in the future," Osiris said scathingly.

Phil had only made it out the door when he'd heard the old man. The yeti stopped dead in his tracks, the muscles in his back and shoulders locking up. He turned slowly back to the room, rage coloring his furry face. The Egyptian was looking at the yeti and did not see North rise from his seat, did not see him bristling with the same rage. The old man was expected North to protect him from the yeti's wrath, and was not expecting to get the same anger from the Guardian.

So he nearly jumped out of his skin when North picked him up with the back of his robe and brought him closer. The Egyptian was bent backwards over the work desk, his feet scrambling for purchase on the wooden floors.

"Jack is hero. Without him, I would not be here. The Guardians would not be here. You would not be sitting in my office complaining to me because Pitch would have won. Man in Moon did not make mistake. Jack is family, and you are a nuisance." He was so angry. He could not remember the last time he was this angry. His body trembled with rage, his vision swam with shades of red and black. He wanted to stuff the old man into a sack and throw him off a cliff. "Get. Out," he growled with finality.

He let go, shoving him forward with enough force to knock him down. Phil did not give him time to recover before he had picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The Egyptian was silent, probably too frightened by North's display of anger to protest being carried none too gently from the complex.

Sinking into his seat again, North covered his face with his hands. Jack had run away. When the boy fled, no one short of the Easter Bunny could catch him. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out a snow globe and whispered for it to take him to the Warren.

_Afterword: Part two will be tomorrow. I probably could have done it in one chapter, but I don't have time for a long chapter today. Got too much going on, with an essay due tomorrow morning and a basketball game tonight (the only sport I enjoy, and only if I'm there in person). I have homework in all my classes that I have been neglecting. So enjoy some angst and Angry!North, ta!_


	72. Glass Trees

_Continued from Indignant Wannabees._

"Did you know that people die in winter?"

Jack's fist stopped dead in the air, the words flouting through the door to punch him in the gut. They were muffled by the wood and glass, but Jack heard them as clear as if he had been standing in the room. Jack stood frozen outside the door, waiting for North to say something, anything. He begged silently that the Russian would defend him, would tell the other spirit off.

Phil had been walking by, off to go do something on the other side of the workshop, but he stopped when he saw Jack freeze. He stepped closer, looking a little alarmed at the growing panic that Jack knew was probably showing on his face.

So Jack did what he always did. He shut down. Swallowing thickly, he reined in his expression, shoving all the nasty emotions down until nothing was left. He plastered his best smile on and the yeti seemed almost satisfied, if not really confused.

But North's next words floated through the door, making Jack falter. "What do you suppose we do then?"

Was North serious? Was he really going to hear this guy out? What if he agreed? What would happen to Jack? They would cast him out, throw him away. That inkling fear in the back of his head, the one that said that the Guardians didn't actually care for him, the one that said that he was only their weapon reared its ugly head, becoming too loud to ignore. He took a hasty step back from the door, feeling his chest tighten.

Phil was alarmed now, his paw catching Jack in the center of his back to keep the boy falling. He looked between the door and the panicking boy.

"I say we strip him of his rank as Guardian, put him somewhere out of the way, and give the honor to _someone_ _else._ Jack Frost doesn't deserve the honor, nor will he ever. Ice spirits are too volatile to be anything but a necessary evil," came the bored drawl of the strange spirit.

All of the muscles in Jack's body tightened, becoming rigid. His stomach churned like he was going to be sick. He had not felt like this since Pitch had manipulated him, saying all the right words until he succumbed.

Maybe North was doing this on purpose. Maybe he was trying to get Jack to go away, but did not want to tell him directly because he was 'too volatile'.

Something between rage and sorrow bubbled up and spilled over. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. It caught on his throat and sounded almost like choked sob. He did not care. He had to get out of there. He did not want to see North expression, did not want to hear the words he'd been dreading the moment they brought him back to the pole. They did not want him.

He fled. That was the only logical thing he could think of. He did not have the strength to pretend everything was okay. He couldn't plaster a smile on his face and act like he didn't hurt. He just couldn't do it. Not right now.

He heard the door slam open, heard Phil's voice. But he wasn't looking anymore. His vision was blurred, but he would never admit to crying. He hadn't cried in years. He had gotten over that. He'd also learned that trusting people was bad, and he just couldn't understand when he had forgotten that. He vaulted the railing, the wind picking him out of the air without him having to consciously call for it. It whisked him up and away, out into the bright snow and away from the pain and betrayal.

The wind dropped him off on a mountain somewhere in the South Pole. It tried to curl around him but he flung it off, flinging his staff around. He was tempted to kick up a blizzard, blow out his emotions until he was too tired to feel, until he was just as frozen on the inside as he had made the world around him. That was how he had protected himself for so long. It was how he escaped the pain.

He did not want a blizzard. He knew that a blizzard would only prove them right. He wasn't dangerous. He had worked so damn hard to make sure that he didn't kill anyone. People still died, but it wasn't as many as there used to be. He tried. He tried so hard it hurt, sometimes.

So instead, when he threw his powers around is only kicked up snow and ice crystals, freezing them in some morbid statue. It reflected his mood, he noted, without him having to shape it. Spikes of cutting ice splayed out in all directions. When it arched up over his head, the inside was as smooth as glass. He blasted out one side and the whole thing collapsed, nearly crushing him. He flung more ice at it, building it up again until it towered above him. Then he twisted the branches of his bizarre tree until they curved and wrapped around each other. Every time his power touched it, the trunk glowed with energy, getting dimmer and dimmer in the darkness as the tree grew larger.

Breathless and shaking from the effort, Jack finally allowed himself to be lowered into the snow again. His creation looked a bit like a monster, in the guise of a tree. It had no leaves. The twisted, unnatural branches always ended in cutting spikes. It was beautiful in a morbid way. Jack hated it.

He raised his staff, ready to shatter the base and have the whole thing come crashing down around him when someone caught the hook of his staff. He spun, alarmed, ready to freeze the newcomer.

Bunny knew that sneaking up on Jack when he was like this probably wasn't a good idea, but seeing him about to destroy something that expressive hurt something in Bunny. The pooka was an artist, and he understood that art had more than just the purpose of being pretty, but of expressing some things that just could not be put correctly into words.

Bunny was quick to put on a placating expression when Jack turned to him. He didn't like the kid's eyes right now. They were too scared, too wild. So Bunny did the only thing he could think to do. He swallowed his pride and brought Jack into a hug.

The boy struggled against him and Bunny only tightened his arms around his shoulder. Jack tried to push away, making odd choking noises. Bunny could feel him trembling, could feel the panic leaking off of him. He only held tighter, trying to show Jack without having to say anything that he could trust Bunny. That he was Jack's friend.

He struggled and fought against Bunny for a long time before he finally slumped against the fur, his body shuddering. Bunny would have sighed if he wasn't afraid of moving. It was not in impatience, but more in relief. Jack was stubborn. He could be more stubborn than Bunny could be. This was step in the right direction.

The pooka only pulled away when the majority of Jack's trembling had subsided. The boy still looked shaken, fragile even. Like the smallest word could shatter him. Bunny's paws never left his shoulders, hoping to keep him there long enough to get that fear and sadness to go away.

"Okay, Frostbite, want to tell me why North sent me out here to get you?"

"Probably because he didn't want to tell me himself," Jack snapped, an unusual venom in his voice making Bunny jump.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't he tell you? I'm not going to be a Guardian anymore." He pulled away from the pooka, scrubbing his face as he turned back to his ice tree.

Bunny was rather alarmed by this? Where had Jack gotten this idea? "What in the bloody hell are you talkin' about, mate?"

"There was some other spirit in North's office when I went to talk to him. They were talking about stripping me of the Guardianship. He said I was too volatile because I was a winter spirit."

"Wait, wait. North said that?" North wouldn't say something like that. Something must have gotten lost in translation.

"No, the other guy did. But North was- he didn't-" Jack made another frustrated noise. "It's not like I'm really expecting you guys to stick for me. I mean, I used to how other spirits don't like my kind. I get it, we're dangerous. We kill people, no matter how careful we are. I guess I was just- I just hoped it was going to be different now."

"Jack." Bunny was slowly starting to see the situation for what it was. Jack still had a few insecurities. Bunny had expected that. He wasn't actually expecting Jack to have as many as he did, but still. Jack had overheard something that he wasn't supposed and it tripped off some bad juju in the boy. "I don't think you stuck around long enough."

Jack looked back at him, an honest curiosity peeking from behind a heavy layer of guarded suspicion. Bunny was not really cut out for this. He was not good at giving advice, but he knew that Jack needed it. Why wasn't North doing this again?

"When he called me there, both he and Phil were up in a tiff. Whoever had come to crash the party wasn't there when I was. I got the impression he was forced to leave. And his departure was not the gentle kind. North did stick up for you, Frostbite. You just ran away too fast to see that."

Jack was still staring at him and Bunny did not like the fact that he couldn't read his expression. Jack turned slowly away again, facing his tree. It really was pretty, the way it glowed in the semi-darkness.

"I know that is scares you sometimes. When I first became a Guardian I wasn't too sure of the other three either. It takes a little getting used to. It's a big change from what you're used to."

Jack snorted at that. "You think?"

Bunny rolled his eyes, but was grateful for the return of the slightly teasing voice. "You're going to be okay, Frostbite."

His shoulders slumped and his head fell forward. That seemed to be the words that Jack needed to hear. The remaining tension leaked away, the iron grip on his staff loosened slightly. He spoke so quietly that Bunny almost didn't hear him. "Thank you."

"Yeah well," the pooka teased lightly. "Promise not to tell anyone that I hugged you and I won't tell anyone that you cried."

Jack laughed and it sounded more like himself instead of the nervous flutter Bunny was almost expecting. "Deal." Jack raised his staff again, making to destroy the tree but Bunny stopped him again, leaping forward to grab the crook before it could swing down. Jack looked at him over his shoulder with faint bemusement. "Keep doing that and I'll accidentally freeze your paw, y'know."

"I doubt it will be very accidental," Bunny snapped back. He then gestured to the tree. "Leave it for now. I think it's pretty."

Jack's eyes widened almost comically and Bunny swore that he saw a blush tint Jack's cheeks. The boy lowered his staff and threw up his hood so fast that Bunny couldn't tell. "Whatever. Should we go talk to North?"

Bunny wanted to tease the kid on having a purple blush of all things, but decided to leave it for later. "Yeah, we should. I swear he was going to have a conniption fit or something."

Jack laughed, leaping up into the air. He danced around Bunny briefly, the wind keeping him off the ground. "Race ya, Cottentail."

Bunny grinned. "Haven't I taught you about racing rabbits, mate?"

_Afterword: Holy crap that was longer than I first thought it would but I really didn't want to break up any further. I have a ton more time today because one of my classes didn't even meet. Which was cool because I don't like that class anyway. It's stupidly boring, which actually makes me kind of sad. I guess I'm off to go do more stuff now. I have a story I want to start writing for you guys. I hope you guys are going to like it. You love angst so… See you all tomorrow. Ta!_


	73. Easter Chickens

_Set after the movie._

Jack had been missing for three days. North was not happy. He knew the kid was busy in February. There were a lot of storms that had to be ushered around. There had been a huge hullabaloo a few days ago with three different storms in North America alone and two in Europe. But they had all blown themselves out by now. It had been three days since the majority had cleared. It made the Russian worry because Jack hadn't come back yet. In fact, he hadn't done anything to let any of them know where he was or if he was okay.

"I think we should look for him," Tooth was saying. She was looking at a small hand held device that she used to keep track of the weather in certain parts of the world. She used to use magic for that sort of thing, but over the last few years human technology had gotten good enough that it was actually more efficient to use that instead. "I don't see any very big storms that could be a real indicator of him."

Bunny was trying to be flippant, but they could tell he was worried too. He only had two months before Easter and the work load was starting to get heavy again. "He told us before," Bunny said, painting an egg. "He's real busy between December and February. He's probably just resting somewhere. I know I could use a nap once Easter is over."

North sighed and looked to Sandy. The small dream weaver only shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea where Jack was either.

"Perhaps we should go look for him."

"Oh come one, North," Bunny scolded. "The kid was by himself for three hundred years. I doubt anything's happened to him. Besides, I heard that the seasons are protective of their kind. I don't think Terra would let something happen to her Winter Spirit."

Tooth was glaring at the pooka suddenly. "You're only saying that because he froze one of your tunnels last week. You don't want him around."

Bunny bared his teeth at her in a mock grin. "When he's not here, he's not causing trouble. Did you know that I lost a whole can of paint the other day? I wonder who could have taken it," he bit back sarcastically.

"But there hasn't been any big storm in three days," North pointed out. "What if he is hurt?"

That seemed to change Bunny's expression. He didn't look up from the egg he was carefully dabbing green pain onto, but his brows furrowed and his scowl deepened. "He's been a loner for so long, even if he was hurt he wouldn't come to us. Not yet anyway," Bunny said solemnly.

Of course, tracking Jack Frost was like trying to follow the wind. Bunny had a good nose, and combined with Tooth's weather device, it only took them a few hours of searching to pinpoint him. The Find-Jack-Frost committee was nothing if not effective.

They found him in Kansas. In retrospect, it was kind of funny. Bunny was not happy to know that the can of paint had gone to waste. However, when the farmer eventually discovered his Easter colored chickens, he was really rather happy under all that confusion. Unfortunately, they did not yield the results Jack was aiming for. The eggs they produced were still white.

_Afterword: I feel like there's been a lot of angst lately and I've been reading and working on a lot of angst. So I needed a break and decided to write something a little fluffier. So here you go. Jack's logic doesn't always make sense. He'd heard that some chickens produce green and even purple eggs, and hoped that by coloring the chickens with Easter paint that they would produce Easter colored eggs. I knew someone once that believed that green eggs came from green chickens. I laughed so hard I nearly died. Same person thought chickens and turkeys had four legs. Anyway, I'm off to go do other things now. Ta!_


	74. Rainbows

_Set after the movie._

He heard the splash followed quickly by an, "Oops."

It was just one word. Bunny caught it on the very threshold of his hearing. It was somewhere far, but close enough that the gentle noises of the Warren didn't muffle it out completely. The Pooka's ears twitched, knowing the voice. He did not like it when Jack said 'oops'. That usually meant really bad things.

He set the egg he was working on down with a long suffering sigh. He could already feel just how long today was going to be. Why did he let Frostbite into his Warren again? Oh yeah, because the last time he band the kid, the honest to God dejection on his face was enough to break a hardened criminal.

He scrubbed his face, smearing paint into his fur. He didn't notice until it was too late, but a part of him didn't care. He had paint of his face all the time these days. He shifted into standing, stretching his legs and his arms.

"Crap," said the disembodied voice of the Guardian's own mischief maker.

Bunny hopped toward it after a moment, finding it somewhere in the bushes. He stopped before making himself known, catching sight of the kid. He nearly busted a gut trying to keep his laughter in. He was not sure what Jack had been trying to do, but whatever it was, he had ended up waist deep in the Rainbow River, his skin and hair every shade of color under the sun. He had a very defined frown on his lips, and those too had splotches of pink and purple staining them.

Bunny had to cover his mouth to keep from giving himself away. Jack seemed oblivious to his presence, moving to the shore, grumbling and cursing under his breath about his hoodie. He crawled up onto the shore and started ringing out his once blue garment and trying to dry his hair. He was really only serving to mix the colors further, going from swirls to a muddy pink relatively quickly.

"Doesn't this stuff come off?" he said to himself.

"Sorry, mate." Bunny pulled himself from the bushes, trying to not look as amused as he actually was. "Stuff's called _dye_ for a reason."

Jack flinched at his voice, turning in a snap to look at Bunny like a dear caught in the headlights. The white and clear blue of his eyes stood out sharply against his skin and it made the laughter harder to contain.

"How do you get it off?" Jack asked after a moment, looking very much like a child who had gotten his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

Bunny just smirked, his eyes appraising the wonderful new tint of Jack's skin. Give him some flowers and he could just pass for a spring sprite. He didn't say a word to the winter spirit, however, deciding to let him figure it out on his own.

For weeks after, Bunny went out of his way to find the snow banks that Jack rested in, just so that he could take pictures of the pink and purple imprints left in the snow. Jack was not amused, but Bunny figured that it would be worth it. He had to take his victories when he could, after all.

_Afterword: Sorry it's short and probably a little boring. I didn't know what I wanted to write this morning. And I don't have a lot of time, either. But eh, here you go. I hope you enjoyed._


	75. Stories of Long Ago

_Set after the movie._

Jack was lonely. That was not something he was surprised at. He was usually a little lonely. Sometimes he was still a little lonely even when he was with the Guardians. He wasn't sure what issue he had, but he didn't always feel like he was included in stuff. Like the times they would reminisce about all the times they saved the world. Jack liked hearing about those times, but he always felt guilty for being there. They talked about times when he wasn't included. He felt like he was intruding even though they seemed to make a show of enjoying answering his questions.

So he never stuck around for very long. He tried not to, anyway. It wasn't always easy. They had had some really cool adventures in the past.

So instead Jack nestled into a snow bank and tried not to think about how lonely it was. He started with a gentle popping, flicking his tongue at the top of his mouth to make the noise. He used to watch some kids do that. It took him a while to learn, but eventually he figured it out. It wasn't like he was pressed for time or anything.

He suddenly sat up and looked around himself briefly. All he needed was a branch big enough to hold his weight. He didn't need to go far, hopping up and balancing expertly on the wood. It dipped and swayed beneath his feet, the snow that had piled on slipping off to the ground, taking more from branches far below as it went. He bounced on the branch for a long moment until satisfied. Tapping his staff to wood, he watched at ice stalactites formed and grew. He was careful about their size and length, not making them too sharp on the tip. He was sure to make them hollow.

Once he was satisfied with their formation, he bounced again, keeping a rhythmic motion. The ice crystals shook and brushed each other, making a magnificent chiming that filled the air and finally alleviated the crushing silence. Jack laughed; the sounds like music to him.

He touched a nearby branch that about eye level, stopping his bouncing long enough to form another array of ice crystals. In one hand he formed a smooth cylinder and gave the new crystals an experimental brush. They chimed almost happily and he couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. He started bouncing again, tapping the newer crystals randomly until he found a beat and rhythm.

It wasn't drums and voices, but he could hear the song that wanted to come out. He hadn't listened to it in a long time, the people that used to sing it had long since died away or removed themselves from many of their traditions. He hadn't remembered it until recently, not in its entire purpose and personal meaning.

The Guardians had their own stories to tell, and none of them included Jack. But Jack had some stories of his own. Some that the Guardians could never be a part of. The words spilled out of him the second he finally found the established beat he was looking for. They weren't in English, but he knew the meaning. They came to him like a long forgotten memory. Hearing them again brought back the remembered sensations of the last time he had sang the song.

He could almost smell the campfire and roasting meat the rotated over the flame. He could remember the feel of the cold ground beneath him but the warm of the flames nearby. He could hear the voices of people long forgotten and the sound of drums and beaded noise makers. The remembered feeling of the feathered headdresses that he wasn't supposed to touch. He could remember the smiling red face of a wrinkled old woman that spoke not a word of English but could get her meaning across to a couple of kids without the need of any spoken language.

He didn't remember the whole song, and a part of him mourned for that. He didn't think anyone remembered the rest of the song. It had been lost in time. He was only able to sing the first verse before his voice faded to a hum. He remembered the beat and the rhythm and when his voice was supposed to rise and fall, but he couldn't recall the words.

Feeling dejected and little like he had served a great disrespect, he stopped bouncing and silenced the chimes of the ice. It was only then that he heard the flutter of wings.

He spun, nearly losing his balance on the branch as he looked for the source. Tooth stood out against the white backdrop of the winter forest, her bright green feathers a beautiful contrast. She had an interesting look in her eyes, watching him from where she hovered nearby.

She smiled when they made eye contact.

"Tooth?!" His voice broke from the combination of his surprise and the strain he had been putting into it a moment ago. She giggled, making Jack's face feel hot. He knew he probably looked like a grapecicle. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

She shrugged her dainty shoulders and fluttered forward to land on the branch next to him. It dipped further beneath her weight, making the icicles chime again. "You took off so fast we didn't even see you leave. We were a little worried is all. You okay?"

Jack smiled for her, feeling his confidence return. Maybe she'd only seen him humming and missed the part where he was clumsily singing in Mohawk. "Oh, yeah. I'm alright. I just didn't want to intrude or anything. You guys were so into your stories and I felt like-" He shrugged, unable to finish the sentence. "I'm alright, Tooth. I mean, this is me we're talking about." He winked cheekily at her and grinned toothily, just to see her coo over his pearly whites.

And oh did she want to. She started forward, her feathers fluffing in what Jack had come to see was pleasure. She stopped herself before she could pry her little fingers in his mouth. Clearing her throat and flattening the feathers on her chest and stomach. "What were you singing?"

Yup, there was the blush again. He briefly wondered why he had to turn purple of all colors. "Oh, it was just something I had learned as a kid."

She looked honestly curious now, making a little noise for him to tell the story. He felt the swell of warmth, as if this was what he had wanted. He wanted to tell them stories too, he realized guiltily. He wasn't about to pass this up.

"Well, when I was still human, there used to be this old Mohawk woman that all the kids called Mama Bear. She would come onto the homestead every once in a while with her three kids. I can't remember any of their names, they were all so weird and hard to say. I called the oldest one Mayu. She was really cool, really nice. Apparently Mama Bear was teaching her to be the next Shaman or something. It's still kind of fuzzy." He shrugged and Tooth nodded. Just because had seen his memories didn't mean that he remembered everything. It was like his memories were a movie he had watched a hundred times as a kid, and then forgot about; only coming back to barely remember things that feel painfully familiar. "Sometimes they would go hunting out in the woods and Mayu always tried to get me to go with them. I was the only white kid they let come along." He laughed a little at the way Mayu had begged the old woman to let him come. "Mama Bear would teach me how to set snares and shoot a bow and she even taught me how to prey for the animal we caught." He laughed again. "I got in trouble for that last one. Whenever they cooked their meat they always sat around the campfire and sang this song. I was told it was saying thank you to the spirits of the forest for letting them live in it and stuff."

Tooth nodded and made little noises throughout the entire story. When he finished she looked around them at the ice that still clung to the branches. "So what were you saying thank you for?"

He grinned at her again, all teeth and happiness and pure childish joy. "For having a family again."

_Afterword: I was playing the AC3 dlc last night and it kind of just tickled my love for old Native American stuff. I've been thinking about the time period that Jack was a human in and couldn't help but think about the people they were no doubt sharing the forest with. I've been thinking about the idea of Mama Bear and her three cubs. I was originally planning on doing it a shot of when Jack was still human, but then it morphed into this. I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm thinking Mayu was probably his human crush, but I dunno if I want to do something with her ever. I'll have to work on her character more, obviously. I also think that Jack was either a Quaker or a Puritan. He doesn't wear any buttons, and neither did his sister, but the dress that she's wearing has a little design near the bottom. Puritans didn't like buttons or designs on their clothes but neither did they let their children do very much playing. I'm trying to find out if Quakers wore buttons or not. Quakers were a branch of Puritans that were not nearly as strict about the embellishment and anti-fun thing. I'm thinking they didn't but I have a mistrust of the information I find on the interwebs. Anyway, ta for now!_


	76. Torments of the Past

_Set after the movie._

In hindsight, Bunny supposed that it was probably a really bad idea. There were times when he just got so mad that he couldn't think straight. No one brought that out of him more than Jack did. The kid knew all the right buttons to press, knew how to get under his skin without putting any obvious effort into it. That probably bugged the Pooka more than anything else. That and Jack was so unfazed by Bunny's own insults half the time, that the Pooka was never sure when he had scored a hit or not.

Sometimes their arguments turned physical. They never tried to kill each other, granted, but if it had managed to escalate that far, there wasn't a thing anyone could do to stop the slug fest that would take place. Not for a lack of trying, of course. North knew how to throw his weight around; Bunny was going to be the last to deny that one.

By the end of those kinds of arguments, they usually both walked away with a few bruises and black eyes, and hurt prides. Nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days. Whenever the fight was pulled to a draw, as it so often was, they usually gruffed at each other for a little longer before apologizing. Agreeing to disagree was their specialty.

Sometimes the kid retreated before a fight could really start. That was when Bunny managed to find the right words to grind into whatever wound Jack hadn't managed to cover up yet. Bunny always felt a kind of triumph. He still knew how to get under the boy's skin just as he did to Bunny. Of course, he would get an earful from Tooth and North for whatever he had said, then forced to go after the kid to try and mend the gap. Bunny wondered if Jack would have to do the same thing if the Pooka was the first to retreat but he never cared to find out.

The laundry room in Santoff Claussen was a fancy place. There were so many machines and racks and basins filled with steaming water. There were buckets nearby, ready on hand for whatever a user needed. Bunny was trying to clean up after a prank, the anger of it all festering and boiling almost as hot as the water in the basin. So when Jack came in to tease him further, Bunny got back at him the best way he could, given the current circumstances.

Bunny had never meant to hurt Jack.

He nearly regretted the action of throwing the near boiling water at the boy the moment the liquid left the small bucket. It was like everything turned into slow motion. Bunny watched as the smile on the other's face vanished, his eyes darkened with some unknown emotion.

He tried to turn away, protect his head and face from the attack. Because that what it was. An attack, plain and simple. The water splashed across his back, pulling a choked cry from Jack the same instance it hissed and melted the frost on his shoulders.

Jack stood rigid as the water dripped off of him. Bunny could see that Jack was trying and _failing_ to freeze the water in his hoody. It was too hot, even after several long seconds of contact with the very embodiment of ice and cold.

The water bucket slipped from Bunny's hands and clattered to the ground loudly in the sudden silence. He hated how Jack actually flinched away like he was ready for Bunny to throw a second one on. He glanced at Bunny from around his hunched shoulder. He looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. There was something dark and wild that shone in his eyes. It took Bunny a moment to realize it was fear. Not the kind of fear he sometimes liked to get from the boy. Not the childish, almost playful fright that made Jack run away laughing before Bunny threw a boomerang at him. No, this fear reminded the Pooka of Pitch. Of darkness and dead people and pain.

Bunny stood stock still. Jack stared back. Slowly the water managed to freeze and when Jack finally straightened his stance the frost cracked and flaked. He turned his back away from Bunny, taking a few steps backwards toward the door.

Jack swallowed thickly, his gaze on the tiles between Bunny's feet. "North told me to apologize," he said curtly. He bowed in place, something that Bunny found rather strange and _way _to formal to mean anything good. "So I'm sorry." He dug in his pocket and pulled out one of the eggs that Bunny had been looking for earlier. He had thought it had gotten crushed and destroyed during the prank, which was part of the reason behind his anger. Jack extended his hand and moved forward. It wasn't lost on the Pooka that Jack only came as close as he had to, and not an inch closer.

As soon as the egg was in Bunny's paw, Jack retreated. He was out the door at a brisk pace that screamed of near panic. Bunny put the egg on the counter, where it would be safe for the moment before he leapt to the door in hopes of catching Jack before he was able to flee out a window.

The boy hadn't gone far and Bunny was able to catch his wrist only two steps outside of the washroom. Jack spun on him, that dark emotion still roiling in his eyes. His staff glowed with energy as he pointed it at Bunny, only centimeters from touching the Pooka's nose. He tugged on his wrist, his voice coming out in a dangerous growl that Bunny had never heard before. "Don't. Touch. Me."

"Frostbite, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"No you're not," Jack accused, his voice breaking in the beginnings of panic. "You're never sorry. No one is _ever_ sorry."

Jack's reaction to this was not normal. It was just some water. Yeah, it had probably hurt him. Water that hot would have hurt Bunny. He didn't really want to imagine what it had felt like as an ice elemental. But he hadn't passed out; he hadn't gone catatonic or something. He was going to be okay. It would heal in time. It had no obvious dampening of his powers if the glow of his staff was any indication.

"Frostbite, now just hold on. It was just an accident. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Let me go, Bunny." Jack tried to wiggle his hand free, his whole body going into the effort of it. When Bunny held fast, Jack glared. Even the Pooka could see how shaken he really was. His anger wasn't as strong as the fear. "If you don't let me go, I swear I will blast you through the wall."

Bunny could feel his ire starting to rise. He stood taller, towering over the boy, anger clouding his face. Bunny really hated how effective that was. Jack stopped struggling, his eyes widening. He hunched away as if Bunny had just threatened to hit him. His staff dropped to his side but it still glowed, reacting to the turmoil of emotions that were swirling inside the boy.

"Why are you like this?"

Jack was silent. He gave another persistent tug on his arm, his face down and away where Bunny couldn't see it. "I said I was sorry. Please just let me go." The conviction that had been in his voice a moment ago was gone. Bunny wasn't sure what was more surprising: the change or the fact that Jack said 'please'.

Bunny was the Guardian of Hope, which meant that he had an uncanny ability to tell how much hope someone held in their soul. It was his job to make sure that no one lost their hope. So when he felt the feeling of something shriveling up and dying he knew that it was Jack. It was like a punch in the gut. He still didn't let go.

Jack was reacting way out of proportion. He didn't act like this when Bunny punched him. Why was this different? Unless it did have some sort of higher significance to Jack that Bunny was missing. It clicked inside the Pooka's head. The dark emotions, the way the hope inside Jack warbled feebly as if it were dying, or remembering dying, even how Jack was so eager to get away.

"This isn't the first time someone's done this to ya, mate." It wasn't a question.

Jack flinched as if Bunny _had _hit him. His grip on the staff tightened and he pulled his weight gently away from the Pooka, putting pressure on where he still had his wrist trapped in Bunny's paw.

Bunny sighed carefully. He pulled on the arm gently until Jack was forced closer or fall down. He grabbed the other hand, pulling the staff from white fingers. Jack's head finally shot up, looking at the Pooka with a mixture of panic and confusion. Bunny was going to pretend that he didn't see the tears brimming in Jack's eyes or the way his breath came in short gasps. He hadn't seen the kid so scared. Not since Pitch ruined Easter.

He set the staff on the wall, just out of reach of the boy, and moved to sit. He tugged on Jack's arm until he too sat on the tiles in front of Bunny. "Turn around and lift your shirt. Let me see."

Jack was suddenly finding his knees very interesting, refusing to look at the Pooka. Bunny rolled his eyes and put his paws on Jack's shoulder. He used his weight to keep the boy down as he circled him and grabbed at the hem of his hoodie.

Jack was having none of that, trying to jump away the moment the pressure on his shoulders eased. Bunny grabbed a handful of the hoodie, his other paw going for a disabling pressure point in the Jack's shoulder. In one swift movement, Jack had flopped gracelessly onto his chest. He groaned and tried to lift himself with his remaining arm, but Bunny was holding it fast. Jack was strong, but Bunny was stronger.

He sat on the kid's legs, pinning him to the floor as he lifted the hoodie. Jack made a distressed noise that bordered between a sob and a groan but there wasn't much he could at that point.

"Ya shoulda just followed my orders kid. Yer shoulder'll be fine in a few hours."

His back and shoulders were another story altogether. This skin was had turned an irritated shade of pinkish-purple, the muscles still convulsing in real and imagined pain. The Pooka hissed. He really had to start thinking ahead before he did stuff.

"Who else has splashed hot water on you?" the Pooka asked conversationally. When all he got was a groan in response, he twisted the arm he was still holding.

Jack choked on his own inhale, his head lifting to finally send a glare over his gelatin shoulder at Bunny. "Alright, alright." Bunny always carried medical supplies on him. It was for when he made mistakes. He usually had to patch _himself_ up, though. So while he pulled a jar of poultice out of his pack, Jack sighed. "Some spirits just don't like me."

"I can't imagine why," Bunny snarked. The smell of the poultice was sharp and cool and it made Jack try to turn his head to see what the Pooka was doing.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it."

"So why were you so afraid?"

Jack was silent.

"Jack."

"Bunny."

The Pooka applied the first handful of the minty smelling stuff with a slap hard enough to make Jack cry out. It quickly turned into a hiss as the stuff went to work, cooling the skin. Jack's body lost the rest of its resistance and if he wasn't already face down on the floor, Bunny was sure he would have flopped again.

Bunny said again, quietly, "Jack."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well you should, mate. I don't like feeling people's hopes shriveling away." It was back now, thankfully. Bunny wasn't sure what had happened. The moment that Jack realized that Bunny wasn't going to hurt him, he snapped out of whatever terror he'd been in.

The next realization slapped Bunny across the face so hard, his hand stopped mid-application. Jack had been _reliving_ something. That wasn't just remembered terror, it was a waking nightmare. Why hadn't he seen that in the first place?

"Why'd you stop?" Jack's voice was muffled by the way his cheek was pressed into the tiles, but his words still managed to rock the Pooka back into the moment.

"What were you reliving?"

The muscles in Jack's body went rigid again. Bunny had struck a nerve. "I don't want to talk about it," he repeated.

"Jack-"

"Bunny, please. Not right now. I can't-" He cut himself off. Bunny could tell he was holding his breath.

Bunny sighed, hoping to get the boy to breathe too. "Alright," he said. "Not right now."

Jack breathed again, his body relaxing beneath the Pooka's again.

"But don't think you can get away with this, Frostbite. Ya need to talk to people about these things."

"I know, Bunny." He paused, sucking in a pained breath as Bunny ran his paws over the worst of the burns. "Some things just aren't meant to be shared." The darkness in the boy's voice only served to remind the Pooka that Jack may look young, but he was older than any child.

Bunny wasn't able to say anything in return. Phil, of all the yetis, decided at that moment to come around the corner of the hall and spot them on the floor. Belatedly, Bunny realized that this could be considered rather compromising to anyone who hadn't seen the original scuffle, or knew why Bunny was spreading semi-translucent white stuff across Jack's shoulders. The Pooka froze the same instance Phil did.

Jack raised his head slowly off the tiles to regard the protective yeti groggily. "Oh hey Phil. Bunny's just doing stuff to me."

Bunny wished Jack wasn't such a prick sometimes. He could have worded that so much better, but no! He just couldn't resist getting Bunny in trouble.

Phil gave an indignant shout, charging forward. He grabbed Bunny by the weapon strap across his chest and _threw _him off of Jack's legs. The boy was as limp as a corpse as Phil picked him up gently with one arm and walked off down the hall. Jack grinned cheekily, wiggling his fingers tauntingly at the Pooka.

Bunny scowled as they left. _Cheeky little bastard._

_Afterword: What happened to Jack in his past? The world may never know!_


	77. Torments in the Present Form

_Continuation of 'Torments'._

He did not need this. Bunny really could have just let it drop. But nope, he just couldn't let old dogs lie. Or old wounds in this case. Of course, it was probably Jack's fault too. If Bunny hadn't tried to explain why Phil was convinced something was awry with their _relationship,_ he wouldn't have been found himself in North's office getting interrogated. Again.

"I telling you like I told Bunny," he made a motion to the Pooka standing on the other side of the room. "It really isn't anything. I would rather not talk about it."

"Obviously, is something if you do not talk about it," North reasoned, irritating Jack further.

Whatever Bunny had put on his back was nice but it had worn off by now. The skin stung and he felt too warm beneath his hoodie. He just wanted to go lie down somewhere safe and let his skin heal. The only thing stopping him was the fact that Bunny had his staff clenched lightly between his paws.

"Come on, Frostbite. Why were you so scared? You knew I wasn't really going to hurt you but you were acting like I trying to kill you."

Jack was a patient guy. It took a lot to get him to the end of his tether. Jack knew from experience. He was resilient. Today was not a good day. Despite the prank he'd pulled this morning, which had gone off beautifully, today was just one regret after another.

He'd gone off to give Bunny the egg he'd rescued. He knew the Pooka was angrier about that than anything else. He figured he could earn the rabbit's forgiveness by effectively telling him that Jack did actually care about his work.

Instead of forgiveness he was met by water so hot it took the air from his lungs and brought memories that he'd worked hard to burry. They come boiling up to the surface faster than he could initially handle. He had panicked, he wasn't going lie.

The blinding light, the unbearable heat, the taunting voices over and over in his head. The smell of death and burnt skin that clouded his mind and the never ending mantra that was repeated to him in every moment. _No one will come._

He shook his head sharply. Now was not the time to be touching up on the past. Especially that little episode. He worked hard to get over what had happened, and he refused to let himself fall back into fear that had chased him for so long after.

He was stronger than that, older. He didn't need to fear anymore. He wouldn't fall for the same trap twice, would not be lured in by words of friendship and family. He swore he wouldn't. Not even the Guardians could completely fool him. There was a reason he had yet to sleep in the complex, even though North insisted that he take the room with the little yeti in the window.

"Jack?" Bunny's insistent voice brought him back to the present. He shook himself out of his thoughts.

"Guys, come on." He was almost down to pleading. Almost, but not quite. He still had some of his pride, but his patience was growing frayed and he was starting to get desperate. He turned to Bunny, putting up his arms in a placating motion. "Bunny, I said I was sorry. Isn't that enough?"

"It's not about the prank, Frostbite."

"What prank?" North butted in.

Bunny looked at the old Russian then back to the winter child. "I thought you said North sent you to apologize."

Jack scuffed his foot, trying to keep the embarrassment off his face. He wasn't sure what was worse: Bunny knowing that Jack came to apologize willingly, or that he had lied in the first place to cover up just how willing he'd been. He didn't say anything, happy that the topic had divulged away from Jack's reaction.

"You mean you actually came by yourself?" The Pooka sounded genuinely surprised and Jack would have laughed if he wasn't so embarrassed by the whole thing.

"And you threw water on him?" North asked.

"Hot water from the wash basins," Bunny affirmed.

"Jack, you not like hot water?"

"It was _really_ hot water," he justified, trying to make himself sound dignified. "It hurt." Yeah, there went his dignity, right out the window and into the snow. He would have really liked to follow it if Bunny wasn't being so damn possessive over the staff.

It was like the Pooka had read his mind, or maybe he caught Jack glancing toward the ornate glass behind North. Either way, he tightened his hold on the gnarled wood. "Jack," Bunny warned.

He kind of wanted to throw a tantrum. It frustrated him to no end. "It's. Nothing." He said it slowly, trying to keep himself in control. His body was betraying him. He could feel the tremble in his hands. He clenched them to his sides and hoped that the other two couldn't see. "Just let me go. It's too warm in here."

North stood suddenly, reacting to his words. He opened the window and let in a soft, cold breeze. The temperature dropped considerably. It did feel better, granted, but Jack had wished he hadn't opened the glass. It was like an open door to a cage, but you were too weak to escape. He knew that he could probably get past North and jump out the window in a few minutes, given that they had both lowered their guard enough. They both looked a little ready to grab him he decided to bolt now. If he did manage to get outside, he wouldn't make it very far without his staff. Bunny would have him through a rabbit hole before he could even hit the ground.

"There. Not too warm now. Tell us why you panic, Jack." North sat back at his desk, resting his elbows on the aged wood and knitting his fingers together. He gave Jack a contemplative look as silence fell upon the room again.

The anger was hot and dark and it flared in him faster than he could ever hope to control. The hoarfrost the blasted across the ground as he clenched his fists burned as it left him. "Why don't you understand?" He was yelling. He didn't mean to yell but the shock on their faces was worth it. At this point he was desperate. If they wanted a tantrum, they were going to get one. "I _can't_ tell you! I'm not strong enough. I spent so many years trying to forget what happened. I don't want to tell it to anyone. You guys don't need to know. You probably don't even want to know. I'm happy now. I don't want you guys to change because of it. You'll treat me differently. You'll start acting like I'm some fragile little thing that's going to break.

"Yeah, I've been weird lately. I know I've been kind of emotional, but it's not like you guys knew me before so you have no idea if this is normal. I'll calm down, I'll be okay. I have to be okay, because I don't have a choice.

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget about it. I spent that last two decades trying to forget and now I'm okay. I'm not afraid anymore. I learned a lesson, I get it. I don't need or want other people budding in anymore. It doesn't matter. What happened, happened. There isn't anything you can do about it and if you knew then it would just change everything. Everything right now is perfect and I couldn't stand it if it changed." His voice broke on the last and before he could stop himself he was slumping down.

He was just so tired. His back hurt, his heart felt it had been ripped from his chest, his stomach was in angry knots. He knew that this whole thing was going to bring up some bad dreams. It was like a floodgate had been cracked. Not quite broken yet, but it was starting to collapse. He would deal with it like he dealt with everything else. He'd blow all of his emotions up into a big storm. He would drown out the remember voices with the howl of the wind. He would be so tired that he wouldn't have the energy to dream.

Bunny was there to catch him. The Pooka's arm went around his chest as he fell forward. He held Jack just off the ground so that he could set him down gently. He couldn't look at either of the Guardians. He didn't want to see the shock or the disgust on their faces. He didn't want to see any of it. He just wanted to fly far away from here and blow himself out.

"Jack, we're here to help you. We won't judge you. Nothing's gunna change, mate." It was odd seeing Bunny so gentle and kind. It was like he was talking to a child. Why had he never talked to Jack that way before he became a Guardian? _No one cares about you._

It was pitiful, the whine that escaped him. He honestly didn't care at that point. He wasn't sure what the noise was for either. It could have been for Bunny's persistence, or it could have been for the remembered voices in his head.

Bunny's paw was on his chin, lifting his face to look at him. At first he thought that if he kept his eyes closed he wouldn't have to see their faces, but that anger he had felt earlier suddenly made a comeback. White hot and burning it blazed through him. This was the kind of anger that only a certain summer spirit could elicit from him. It was the kind of anger that could not be expressed until he lashed out.

So that was what he did. He didn't even feel the ice shard forming in his hands. It all happened in a blur of ice and blood and sharp wind. He buried the shard in the closest thing he could, which happened to be Bunny. He wasn't sure where he hit, or how deep it went. All he knew what there was suddenly blood everywhere and Bunny was painfully rigid.

The staff was abandoned nearby, just within reach. Jack spared Bunny a glance, watched as blood, like little red nightmares dripped and splashed to the tiles and onto Jack's hands and legs. He didn't dare look at Bunny further. North had moved from his desk to try and help the Pooka, leaving the window open. Jack grabbed up his staff and fled out into the blinding snow and wind. There were no voices that followed him.

_Afterword: Oh how quickly it is that humor turns to things far darker._


	78. Close to Home

_Torments Arc._

"I can't believe he actually stabbed me!" Bunny was indignant. Surprisingly not that mad about the whole thing, just incredulous.

"I don't blame him," Tooth remarked almost coldly. Her small hands were delicate as she tried her best to clean the blood from his fur. It had been shallow, the spike easy to pull away. It had already stopped bleeding. She doubted Bunny would need stitches. Jack's intention had not been to really hurt Bunny, but more to defend himself above all else.

"So this is _my_ fault-Ow!"

She gave him a hard look. "If you hadn't pushed him so hard, he wouldn't have felt the need to retaliate." She knew the feeling of being trapped. Just thinking about it dredged up ancient memories of panic and hopelessness. She suppressed a shiver but could not quite help the way her feathers fluffed in agitation.

Bunny fell quiet, a pensive look coming over him. "I hadn't meant to hurt him," he said sadly, almost too quiet for her to hear.

She sighed and softened her demeanor. "I know Bunny." She put a hand on his opposite shoulder, the one not wounded. He didn't look up at her and she knew he felt absolutely horrid. After a moment she went back to her cleaning. She would have it wrapped in a few minutes and then Bunny would set about finding the boy.

"North will look for him."

"He won't find him," she replied without missing a beat. "We already discovered he's good at hiding."

"I never thought to think of why…"

Her hands stilled and she looked at the Pooka's face in alarm. "What do you mean?" She didn't like the way a bubble of horror threatened to make her sick, even before she knew what he was talking about.

"I don't really know. That's what he wouldn't tell me. Someone's hurt him. He wouldn't tell me who or how or when."

"You think it's the-"

"The other winter spirits were known for being grumpy old blokes that didn't like other people. I thought they were just as cold in personality. Everyone said they froze people that got too close to them. Jack was the same way for a while, remember? Remember all those people that would come and complain about him freezing other spirits?"

She nodded slowly, vaguely remembering.

"I always thought it was just him being a prankster or something. Getting some sick thrill out of hurting people. I've heard of that happening to ice spirits of occasion, you know? Them turning bad or whatever."

She nodded again. "Where are you going with this, Bunny?"

"I never stopped to think that maybe he was doing that stuff not to have fun, but because he was afraid."

She felt the blood flood from her face and for a moment, she was somewhere else. She was back in that moment when she first met Jack, how tense and hostile he was; how he didn't trust them. She remembered how he was so unhappy with her touching him; with her being so close to him. She swallowed thickly, hating herself for crying. She couldn't help the tears that clouded her vision and blurred the world.

Bunny seemed to notice. He turned to look at her properly, an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tooth. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Who could've done this to him?" she whispered. She would have said it louder but she was afraid that she would start sobbing if she did. It hurt, knowing that someone had hurt Jack, and that she and other Guardians had never stopped to notice. The fact that they hadn't even noticed it when all the signs were there only seemed to make the ache in her chest worse.

"I don't know, Tooth," Bunny answered honestly.

"Why didn't we notice? It was there," she said, voicing her own grievances. "He doesn't sleep here, he doesn't talk to us. We don't know what he's afraid of or what his weaknesses are. Bunny, he doesn't trust us."

"I know, Tooth!" He had snapped at her, but she knew that his anger and desperation was not aimed at her. It was more inward for the Pooka and she was almost surprised to see him as equally worked up about this as she was.

"You need to go after him," she said suddenly.

"Why not North? It would be faster."

"North is a good man, Bunny, but he doesn't have the same amount of tact that you do."

The Pooka snorted, but it was far from amusement in his face. "Tact? What tact?"

"If North goes to him, Jack will think that he's hurt you so that bad that you couldn't come along, or that you're dead."

A look of horror flashed across Bunny's face. "He could think I'm dead?"

She didn't want to think of what that would do to him, either. Jack may not trust them completely, but she knew that he loved them. It was the only thing that softened the blow of his mistrust. He cared for all of the Guardians and she knew that he would be distraught if one of them died, just as they would be. She didn't want to think of what the boy would do if he thought that it was his fault.

Bunny nearly took off in that instance, thinking the same horrid thoughts that were flashing through her own mind. She grabbed him, throwing her weight to one side to stop him from getting far enough away to open a rabbit hole. She picked the bandages off the nearby table and did a hasty job. They wouldn't stay on very well, but she didn't care. She doubted the Bunny was going to moving around much.

They exchanged no more words. The urgency of the moment left further sentiments a waste of time. They realized now just how fragile someone could be, but they never stopped to think that that fragility could be so close to home.


	79. Truth

_Conclusion to the Torments Arc._

Tracking down a boy who smelled like snow and pine trees was really hard to do in a winter pine forest, so Bunny discovered. It was like trying to smell for one elf in the entirety of Santoff Claussen. In other words, impossible.

But Bunny was adamant. He had learned a few things in the little time Jack had been a Guardians. The one he was learning right now, was also something that he had learned the last time he pried too much. Jack was excellent at hiding.

Of course the last time, Bunny wasn't wounded and he wasn't afraid that Jack was going to do something stupid and hurt himself. A part of him knew the kid wouldn't really try anything, but another part held onto that irrational fear.

He liked the first few weeks of Jack being a Guardian. Back then, it wasn't known just how many issues the kid had. He knew they all had their buttons. For instance, it was taboo to talk about animal hunting in front of Tooth, and to talk about Nightlight in general. They didn't like to talk about him too much.

The first time Bunny saw Jack react negatively to something, he was honestly surprised. Jack was always so happy-go-lucky. The mere fact that he could react so badly to something was unsettling. Bunny never did find out what that had been about either. He had pried, mostly because a part of him didn't realize that Jack wasn't used to having someone to talk to, but also because he kind of wanted something to use against the kid.

He had made the mistake of voicing his second reason when Jack had asked why Bunny was so curious. That look of horror and betrayal on the kid's face could have given him a heart attack. Jack had fled at that point, one of the few arguments where he did and Bunny was not happy about it.

He looked for signs of the kid that didn't necessarily rely on his smell. If they had been on an ice plain, where Jack sometimes went to hide out when he was angry, then Bunny could at least follow the weak smells of pine. Bunny was starting to think that Jack hid there when he _wanted_ to be found. When he was in the forest, it was assured that he was honestly trying to stay away from them.

He followed foot prints, found trails of fern frost that always followed Jack. He looked for icicles that looked like glass daggers. Jack's icicle had a tendency to be clear, as opposed to natural ones that were a little cloudy.

He did eventually find the kid, sitting up in a tree. It took Bunny a while to spot him up there, but the trail kept leading back to that spot.

He spotted him in the tree, sitting on a branch with his legs against his chest. He was glaring off into space but the moment that Bunny spotted him, he spoke. "You'd be amazed how many people don't look up."

Bunny snorted and hopped up to him. The branch dipped and creaked under the extra weight and he heard snow falling down to the ground beneath him. The kid didn't even shift, perfectly balanced with his back against the trunk. He looked off to the side when Bunny sat down in his field of vision, glaring off, instead, to his right.

There was a long silence that followed. It was awkward and uncomfortable but the Pooka was unsure of how to break it. Thankfully, he didn't have to. Jack shifted his weight, and said almost too softly for Bunny to hear, "I'm sorry."

He looked at the boy and knew it was a sincere apology. He wasn't all that mad to begin with, really. Frightened and very shocked, but not angry. The apology felt nice anyway. "Don't worry about it, Frostbite. It was just a cut."

Jack snorted humorlessly. "How many stitches did you need?"

"None," Bunny answered flatly.

Jack gave him an unimpressed look, as if expecting him to turn around and say otherwise.

"Honest!" He patted the bandage and didn't even wince. It hurt a little and he knew that he'd be sore for a while, but it wasn't all that bad.

Jack rolled his eyes, unconvinced and went back to sulking in silence.

Bunny was unwilling to let another awkward pause dampen his efforts. "How's your back?"

Jack shrugged. "It's fine."

Bunny raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe that."

Jack's eyes suddenly shot to him, a look of fury coloring his expression. "Why do _you_ care?" he spat.

Bunny let the words glance off of him, ignoring how they hurt. "Because I had someone patch me up and now you need someone to patch you up. That's what family does, kid."

The fury drained almost as quickly as it had come. Now he just looked plain ashamed. His eyes searched Bunny's face for a few seconds before darting away again.

Bunny sighed. "Come on, kid," he prompted. When Jack didn't turn, Bunny inched a little closer to him. It wasn't lost on him how the boy tried to curl tighter against the tree. "I ain't gunna hurt you," he reasoned gently. He didn't dare try touching him again. He didn't like a skittish Jack.

"Bunny, I'm sorry." There was resoluteness in his voice, but it didn't quite hide the edge of panic. "A couple of decades ago a few spirits tricked me into believing that they were my friend. They asked me to come join them in a mountain or something. When I got there, the spirit of the hot springs tried to drown me." He said it all in a rush, without taking a breath. As soon as he was finished, he buried his face into his knees.

Bunny sat for a good minute, staring at the boy as if he'd just offered to kill himself. Horror and pain swirled in his mind faster than he could comprehend. Why would someone do that to Jack? What had he done? Sure, the kid could be kind of a trouble maker, but not enough to warrant _murder_. Bunny shuddered and inched closer again. To his relief, the boy didn't try to move away again. "Why?"

Jack shook his head mutely, not lifting it.

"Is that why you were so scared? I wasn't gunna drown you."

"It wasn't about drowning. I was just reminded."

Bunny thought back on the moment the water touched Jack. How unfocused and hurried he was. He wasn't in that moment, but somewhere else entirely, reliving a nightmare. Bunny examined the boy for a long moment, guilt and anger settling in his stomach and threatening to make him nauseous. "Come on, Frostbite, let me see your back."

Jack complied with only minor hesitation this time. He shifted until his back was facing the Pooka and lifted his hoodie. Bunny noticed that he only revealed as much as necessary and not an inch more. He dismissed it for being insecurities.

The skin was still a little red, and there were a few blisters. He winced as he pulled out the poultice again. "That's going to leave a mark," he said to himself more. A thought occurred to his as he started applying the cream. Jack sighed, sounding rather content all of a sudden. "Hey Frostbite, if they tried to drown you in a hot spring, why don't you have any scars?" It wasn't that he didn't believe him or anything, he just felt it was kind of strange.

"I don't scar," Jack replied quietly. "Tabe says it's something about being a seasonal spirit. We can't scar."

"Well, that's good, I guess."

Jack shook his head. "Sometimes."

There was silence again as Bunny worked. Jack's words echoed in his head, making him angrier and angrier. "I'll make 'em pay for that."

Jack suddenly turned to look at him over his shoulder. "Please don't. The less attention I bring to myself, the better. It's already bad enough that I'm a Guardian now, I can't have you hunting them down. They'll think I tattled on purpose and come after me despite any extra protection they may think I have."

_Any extra protection they may __**think**__I have…_

Bunny was stunned into stillness, watching Jack's face for a long moment. He seemed so closed off, so distant right now. His expression was impassive, guarded. Bunny hated it. He hated it, he hated people that could do that to a kid, and he hated himself for not protecting a child who really needed it. "Jack, you _are_ protected. I won't let them take you again."

Jack turned back away to let Bunny finish. "I know." He sounded unconvinced.

"You don't believe me." When Jack opened his mouth to contest, Bunny cut him off. "Don't lie to me. I'm sick of you trying to lie. You don't have to, anymore. Families tell the truth to each other."

"Well, I haven't had a family in a really long time, okay."

"You'll get used to it," Bunny replied, bumping the other's shoulder gently.

Jack was silent, his mouth still open like he was going to say something. He was watching Bunny work from the corner of his eyes. He closed his jaw with a click, turning so that he wasn't looking anymore. "The entire time I was there…" He trailed off, making a pained noise. "I hate talking about this. It makes me look weak. I'm not weak, Bunny. I don't need anyone to pity me."

"We won't then," Bunny replied flatly. "You can tell us to help us understand. And I get it. I won't pry unless you want me to. Tell me when you're ready." Bunny settled into silence, despite the curiosity that ate at his mind.

Jack sighed, heavy and tired. If was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and Bunny couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Those were the right words. Ten points to Brother Bunny!

"If something ever happens to me, will you look?"

The question came out of left field, leaving the Pooka stunned. "O'course! What gives you the idea that we wouldn't?"

"They would always tell me that no one was coming." By 'they', Bunny knew he meant who ever had hurt him. "I don't hate them for what they did. I've done some pretty nasty things to deserve how they treated me. If I had to hate them for something, it was for being right."

Bunny's ears flattened against his head and he found himself wrapping the boy in his arms. It was something Tooth would do, maybe even North. But not Bunny. So Jack was understandably surprised to find the Pooka hugging him. It took Bunny a moment to realize what he was doing too, but a part of didn't care all that much. Manly image be damned, the kid needed a hug.

"I don't want pity, Bunny."

"I ain't pittying ya. I'm giving you a hug, 'k? I will always come find you. So don't go missing or anything, because I ain't gunna be happy with having to drag your ass back to the Warren or Santoff Claussen."

Jack laughed, taking the joke for what it was, thankfully. "Thank you, Bunny."

He pulled away, realizing belatedly that he had just gotten mint-smelling poultice all over his front. He was going to small like aloe vera for a week. He glared at his own chest, then flicked Jack in the back of the head. The kid flinched and turned to look at him indignantly. Bunny was happy to see some of his usual spark returning.

"No more pity-parties, alright?"

Jack grinned suddenly, seeing the poultice in his fur. "That's what you get for hugging me."

Bunny made a face, but couldn't help the smile that was tugging at his lips.

_Afterword: Guys… Uuuuuugh! I've had a headache for two days. It sucks shitballs, okay. I meant to say sorry for not posting last Friday and Monday, but I hated everything I was writing yesterday so I decided to not even bother. I may not be able to post for the rest of the week, and it's going to be spotty next week, too. So I'm sorry in advance if I drop off the face of the earth for a while. I'll always try to come back, I swear._

_In other news, I've finally named that secret ROTG fic project I'm working on. I'm thinking of bringing a few more people on to read it and give me feedback. So I'm going to go ahead and dip from my pool of willing (victims) participants and ask if anyone is willing to help out. I'll be choosing three or four new betas. It won't be about Invisible stuff, and I won't care much about grammar and spelling. This will be more about your honest opinion on the story. In other words, I'll be choosing some more people to come in and nitpick about shit they like and don't like about this new thing. Tell me if it's boring or unbelievable. That stuff. You won't have to devote nearly as much time to my shit as you would Invisible, so time isn't an issue like it was for choosing Invisible's beta. PM me and let me know._

_Anyway, I'm going to go home now and crash for a while and pray my headache goes away. Ta!_


	80. Cannot Be Unseen

_Set before the movie._

Jack wished he was not invisible all the time. It was something that he spent so much time wishing, in fact, that it often became the center of his thoughts. He would always be trying to find ways to make himself seen. He'd tried bringing snowmen to life, taking kids on wild rides, he'd even went up the poltergeist alley and tried throwing things. It never seemed to work.

There were times when he really wished that he could be seen, so that certain stuff simply wouldn't happen.

It had sounded like crying to him, the sound coming in weird rhythmical sobs. Jack Frost was a child in many respects, and like most children, he really didn't know any better.

But what is seen is ever rarely _unseen._ And because they couldn't see him, the couple rutting on the bed just kept going. Jack had not meant to stumble into the room, but he had wanted to know what that noise had been.

He had gotten away quickly, having learned his lesson. His face still burned from the embarrassment and his cheeks stinging from where he had slapped his own face in an attempt to cover his eyes.

Never again, he decided, would he _ever_ investigate weird noises coming adults. It had proven to be a _very _bad idea.

_Afterword: Crackish and short, but I thought it was funny. My life is getting kind of busy right now, so updates aren't going to be every day for a while. I've chosen my new betas for that project. With luck, you guys will be seeing that soon. Thank you to everyone that volunteered. I really love all of you so much. You guys are amazing._


	81. To Ease the Loneliness

_Set after the movie._

There was once a little girl who had been forgotten by everyone. Well, perhaps not everyone, but to a child's mind, it certainly felt like it. Her family was very large, she had lots of brothers and sisters and cousins upon cousins upon cousins. Her family was so large that she felt like just got lost in all those people, much like someone could get lost in a big city. No one ever paid attention to her anymore.

She had very few friends. Those that she did were never her best friend, and likewise, they never considered her their best friend. She was never invited for pizza or to have a sleep over. She never played with them outside of school, and often she did not play with them during school.

The little girl was very lonely. She had one thing that always made her feel better, even though no one ever listened. She would go to the empty music room in her school, standing tall and proud and play her violin every single day. She fancied she was pretty good. She liked to daydream that she wasn't alone, that she an audience that cheered for her and adored her and paid such close attention that she could never be ignored again. That was her ultimate goal. She was to become so good that no one would ever ignore her again.

So every day, she played in the quiet loneliness, all by herself. She fantasied about an audience, but she was oh so surprised one day to find that she suddenly had one.

He was an older boy; out of childhood, but not yet a man. His hair was like snow and his eyes like the sky after a storm. His skin was pale and he brought with him a never-ending feeling of cold. It was not a bad cold. It was oddly comforting. It spoke of magic and fun and a child's raucous laughter.

She would realize belatedly that he was not real in the sense that she was real. He existed on a plane entirely independent of her own, and yet so intricately intertwined. But it hardly mattered to one attention starved little girl. All she knew was that suddenly, this beautiful child of ice and snow was clapping joyously at her playing. His smile was wide and kind and his eyes alight with humor and excitement.

She gaped at him for a long moment, her mouth falling open. The grin on his face faltered slightly, and he looked at her witha measure if surprise. Then the smile was back, and if she had thought it had been large before, now it threatened to split his face clear in half.

This was Jack Frost, she realized. This was the winter child that she had heard her great uncle something-or-whatever talking about. Some part of her had believed the old man's stories, but she never actually expected to see him.

"J-Jack Frost..." she breathed, feeling like an idiot the next second. Well duh! He already knew that, she could not fathom why she had try to tell him that.

But his smile was still gentle and benign. "That's right. And you are Emily."

She nodded numbly. Oh how long had it been since someone paid her any attention? "Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, not meaning to sound so suspicious but not being able to help it.

He didn't falter for even a second. "I came to watch you play."

She blinked owlishly at him for another long moment. "You did…?"

He laughed and it was truly a happy noise. He took a step forward so that he was no longer leaning on the grand piano. "I'll let you in on a little known secret," he said conspiratorially. She leaned forward as he did until they were close enough that she could feel the cold radiating off of his skin. "You see," he began, "I'm in cahoots with Santa Claus."

She tilted her head just slightly so that she could look at his face better. "But it's not even Christmas," she informed him curtly.

Jack laughed and it made her smile. She liked making people laugh. "Santa knows what every child wants. He told me that your wish was so pure and strong that he simply couldn't wait until Christmas to give it you."

"A friend?" she whispered, almost afraid that he would disappear and that she would be wrong.

"That's right. You wanted a friend so badly, that not even I could resist not giving it to you."

"So you're going to be my friend?"

"Yup! I'll come visit you every day, and we'll play and have fun, and you won't be lonely anymore."

She grinned so bright that her cheeks hurt. Her heart was soaring. The heavy ache in her chest was eased. Just like that, Jack became her best friend, her only friend. There was a sort of kinship in him that she had yet to understand, but she knew that he would understand her better than anyone else. She looked up at her new friend and his smiling face and she knew she would never be quite as lonely again.

_Afterword: Wow, so that last chapter was definitely an experiment. Some of you guys thought it was inappropriate, and others thought it was funny. Kind of an interesting mix of reactions, actually._


	82. A Thousand Pages

_Set before the movie._

Jack did not have a place to stay in the sense that many other spirits had. He did not have any elaborate lair to hide in. He did not have any walls to hide behind when he was afraid. He had nothing but a frozen sheet of ice and a terrible feeling that it all _meant _something.

Jack was alone. No one had ever come for him when he was hurt. No one had ever saved him when he needed them. He more alone than he ever imagined before. He had no one. He was the one that protected himself. He did not need anyone else to do it for him.

There was one thing that Jack did have, and he took a great comfort in it. It had started as a simple wall inside a dark cave. That was all it was. The cave was wet and cold. It was shallow but always so dark. Jack did not mind the darkness. It had never hurt as much as others had. The darkness was kind to him, like the wind. It was always there when no one else would come.

So it had started with the smooth walls of his dark cave. He liked the flawless surface. It was perfect in ways that Jack could never be. He was never jealous, for it was silly to jealous of a wall. He envied it, however. The stone was always so strong. It never wavered or showed fear. It never cracked or threatened to crumble, like Jack had. It was always so strong. Jack wished he could be like the walls. The walls were happy with silence while Jack could hardly stand them.

Jack had no friends. No one ever cared for him. So he took his pleasure where he could. He had nothing else that could keep him together. He had no family that would leave him accountable. He knew that he made no difference in the world. He had already been thrown into a hole and left to die. No one had ever come. No one had ever even noticed that he was gone. Jack did not exist.

The walls were so empty. He thought that maybe if he filled them with something, they would not be so sad and lonely. He tried to put pictures up, but the faces only stared back at him. Their eyes were accusing and haunting and dead and empty and Jack did not like them. He tore them down. He hated them all. He hated them almost as much as he hated the world. He did not think he could really hate anything more than how much he hated himself, though.

The empty walls changed when he found a book, abandoned and alone, like himself. He picked up the ragged pages, turning it over and over in his hands. He did not realize that he knew how to read, but he supposed that he had always been able. The book was simply titled 'The Ugly Duckling'. He went to his cave and read it. He laughed when he finished it because he did not think he could cry. He read it again, and did not even have the strength to laugh anymore. He read it more. He read it every day until he realized that he could recite the entire story word for word and never stumble.

One day he tore out a page. The book was already so ragged that it hardly mattered. The page came loose from the binding with barely any effort on his part. He taped it to the empty wall and threw the book away. Every day he would come to his cave and read about how the ugly duckling turned into a beautiful swan and everyone love him. He smiled because he was jealous of the swan.

Jack found a book store. He would go to it every day for a long time and read all the stories he could. He read storied that made him laugh, he read stories that made him want to cry, even though he never would again. He read stories that rang so very true with his soul that it hurt him to leave them behind.

So he ripped out pages of his favorite books. He felt bad at first, but remember that no one was going to stop him. He taped the pages to his walls, all around the swan that he was so terribly jealous of. In hindsight, he would realize that this habit was what kept him alive. It was what allowed him to heal again and to not be afraid when others came to him with offers of friendship. But while he was doing it all he knew was that when the walls were covered in words and stories and silent voices, he was not so lonely anymore.

One day while he was in a book store, not long after becoming a Guardian, he heard a song. He did not catch all of the words but a short verse spoke of a man who ripped pages from his favorite books. Jack had finally been strong enough to cry, even as he tore the pages from more books. Maybe one day someone would stop him and tell him he did not have to do that anymore, but until that day, he would keep doing it. He was a Guardian now, but there was still so much that needed to heal.

_Afterword: Man of a Thousand Faces by Regine Spektor. The lyrics Jack heard: _

_He used to go to his favorite bookstores,  
and rip out his favorite pages,  
and stuff them into his breast pocket,  
and the moon to him was a stranger._

_I thought it was rather charming and kind of depressing. Good song btw. You guys should go check it out. I think I want to do another shot with this particular idea and there's another set of lyrics in the song that is begging for me to explore._

_The majority of this takes place right after Jack got away from the spirits that tried to drown him in a spring. It was kind of a dark place for him, understandably. _


	83. Conversations Over Soup

_Set after the movie._

Finding Tabe's fortress was not a difficult task. Well it was not much a fortress anymore. There was very little of it that had not been torn down by time and war. Jack had been there enough times to know where it was without having to keep any eye on the stars for navigation.

The mountainous desert around him was cold with a night frost. Part of it was his presence and another part was natural. Despite the cold, Tabe often rested here rather than somewhere else. Jack could never figure out why, and whenever he had asked, Tabe always said the walls had memories he didn't want to forget.

Jack had not understood that. Not when he did not understand that spirits were first humans. Before he knew that he had been someone else, and thus so had Tabe.

The smell of dried grass and lantana greeted him when he finally touched down in what used to be the central courtyard. He made enough noise that anyone in the ancient building would have heard him land. So when a spot of orange and brown robes could be made out in the midnight darkness, Jack smiled warmly at his friend.

Tabe smiled back and came out of the doorway to greet him. "Shepherd boy?" he called. "What brings you here? Everything alright with your Guardians?"

Jack felt instantly guilty. Tabe had other friends. Jack knew that. They were seasonals, though. Terra had always taught seasonals to stick with seasonals, despite all arguments. Summer and Winter had to be friends otherwise they simply could not do their jobs effectively. How where they supposed to know when to give and pull the seasons if they never talked to each other?

Ever since the fiasco with Pitch, Jack had been very preoccupied with the Guardians. He hadn't seen Tabe since the last season meeting last fall. They usually discussed icebergs and hurricanes in the beginning of spring. It was Jack's job to send icebergs south so that Tabe could melt them and have ammunition for the season's round of hurricanes. Jack had gotten all the information he had needed from Aegir, who usually attended those meetings too. The ocean spirit was not all that happy about playing messenger but his attitude had changed since the last time Jack had seen him. He seemed more flighty around the frost child. Jack was not going to illusion himself. He knew it was because Aegir was not sure what to think of Jack's new status as a Guardians and the power and influence he suddenly had over the spirit realm.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine. I just needed some advice."

Tabe looked surprised. "Really?" He sounded happy, which made Jack grin. "You're not going to ask your new friends?"

It was a barb hidden in sweet words, but it was also playful. "Nah, they don't quite understand yet."

Tabe snorted. "I hear you, brother." He waved Jack toward the door he had come from. "Come on in. It's cold out here."

Jack followed him inside. Despite the torn and aged stone outside, the inside was like taking a step a thousand years back. Piles of cushions littered the tiled floors, drapes of different designs and vibrant colors hung from the corners. Ornate etchings decorated the walls with foreign words and patterns. Groups of candles sat on the floor, on tables, on shelves, everywhere. They lit the room with a soft, flickering glow. There was a hearth against the far wall, open topped with a steaming caldron held over the glowing coals.

Tabe gestured to the cushions as he entered, going to the pot to stir the contents. "Soup?"

It smelled delicious, so Jack nodded. Tabe had had over a thousand years to perfect his cooking. Jack had never been disappointed. The soup was warm, the bowl nearly scalding his hands as Tabe handed it to him, but Jack was usually too hungry to care and now was no exception. Ever since Tabe had found out that Jack had not been eating regular meals (he didn't need to, so why should he?), the Persian usually made sure to have enough food in case Jack decided to stop by.

"So what do you want to talk about," he asked as he served himself. He came over to the cushion pile sat down carefully so as not to spill his soup. For a moment it felt like nothing had changed. Jack was still just Jack, sitting with one of his only friends for a bowl of soup and a quiet evening. Jack admitted that he was really glad that at least this had not changed.

"Who where you before you became Summer?"

Tabe almost choked on the first bite. Jack looked over at him, concerned and Tabe looked back with an expression of perplexity. "What brought this on?"

Jack shrugged, suddenly finding the pale contents of his bowl very interesting. "Stuff has been changing. I-" He broke off for a moment, feeling embarrassed for some awful reason. "I never had any memories of before I became Winter." When he looked back at Tabe, the Persian had a thoughtful look about him.

"I'm sorry," Tabe started. "I had no idea you did not remember anything," he said honestly. "I always figured that you didn't want to talk about it. You seemed pretty young, so I figured something really bad had happened. I don't usually like to talk about how I died, so I didn't pry." It was his turn to feel embarrassed, using his soup as an excuse to not look at Jack.

"Do you mind if I ask? What happened to you, I mean?" Curiosity got the better of him. He was learning about a lot of things these past few months and he had no intention of stopping now.

"You first." Tabe said warily, as if he thought that Jack wouldn't tell him if he told first.

Jack rolled his eyes but was good natured about it. "I had a sister. One day she wanted to go ice skating so we did. The ice wasn't as strong as we had hoped it would be. She almost fell in, but I saved her."

"At the cost of your own life," Tabe finished.

Jack nodded, testing to see if the soup had cooled enough for him to eat. Jack ate for a moment, waiting for Tabe to start his own story. The summer spirit had finished his soup and had set about preparing an ancient looking hookah. Jack had tried it once a long time ago but he had only ended up coughing for a week and had never tried again.

Tabe went to the hearth and dug through the hot coals around the pot, looking for one the size he needed. There was silence between them as Tabe returned and put the glowing coal over the bowl on top and sat back to wait. Jack was patient during the silence. He could tell that Tabe was thinking hard. He was trying to remember memories a thousand years old, and turn them into a coherent story. Jack could wait ten minutes.

After a while, Tabe started puffing on the nozzle to the hookah, and finally he started.

_Afterword: There will obviously be a part two. This chapter was rather long and Tabe's story is kind of long too. Remember way back when, when I told you guys that Tabe had grown a back story when I wasn't looking? Yeah, it's been periodically poking me in the feels. And you guys seemed to like him enough for me to get away with him having his own chapter._

_I'm sorry it's been like two weeks since the last chapter. And I know there was supposed to be a part two far the last chapter too, but writer's block and a nasty case of end-of-semester depression kind of hit me really hard. I've had a good talk with my resident therapist (ie, my wonderful mom), so I'm feeling better now._

_Also you can thank the wonderful Eternal She-Wolf for helping me get back in the game. She wrote an excellent fanfic for my fanfic, starring Tabe. She did a really wonderful job and it deserved a good read and some reviews. Go show some love, guys. The story is called "A Thaw in Mid-Summer". It's in my favorites if you're too lazy to look it up._

_Okay, I'm done ranting. Part two will be up soon, I promise. :D_


	84. Stories of the Forgotten Past

_Part two of Conversations._

It was obvious that Tabe was uncomfortable about the whole thing. Something in the back of Jack's minds informed him that perhaps this was the first time Tabe had ever told anyone about his human life. He wondered what had happened that someone as proud as Tabe could be so ashamed.

"I supposed I should start by saying that I personally think that Terra took the deepest pity on me. I think she let me be reborn so that I could redeem myself before having to face my god." He said this was a deep sorrow, his voice solemn and regretful. "I don't think my soul could have survived such judgment."

He was quiet for a time after that, puffing on his hookah methodically. Jack waited in silence. He knew that eventually Tabe would start again.

When he did it was with a bone weary sigh that Jack could relate to. "You know that there is a difference between killing a man in the heat of battle and murdering a man? That is the line between being just and being evil.

"I was a thief of the worst kind. I was a pirate." He paused long enough to look at Jack. "Not the kind of pirate that you had seen. I was the kind that roamed the deserts and destroyed an entire family's livelihood, all for a little greed." He shook his head, his mouth twisting with disgust.

"I was a bandit. I traveled the deserts with my small crew of men. We destroyed caravans, killed the men, and made use of the women. The only good thing in my life was my sister. She was the one that kept me from going over the edge. She was the one that reminded me that I was not evil as long as I killed my opponent quickly and with little pain.

"After fifteen years of being the scourge of the desert, of finding success in the ways of blood and death, did it finally come crashing down. The first thing that happened was a few of my men committing mutiny. I was a far better swordsman, and my sister was not inept, either. There was only two and we killed them within minutes. My role as leader was never even threatened, but I had become paranoid. Within the month I killed the three remaining men in my troop. My sister called me insane. She said that I was deranged. She told me that she wished she had let those men kill me. I was paranoid, I was scared. I had never had a true friend and the only men I had ever trusted had tried to kill me.

"I threatened to kill Shirin right then, and she fell silent, knowing that I could and I would. She was never the same after that night, however. She became far more quiet and reserved. She rarely spoke to me and whenever we ventured into towns or cities she would disappear for hours at a time."

He stopped suddenly, taking a long breath that seemed incredibly heavy. "One night she served me dinner. At first I was not suspicious, for it was my birthday and I only thought she was being kind to me. You have to understand, however. My sister was not to cook, or to clean. She had never learned such thing that a normal woman would simply for her lifestyle and her strength of character. She would never fall into such habits or actions, not even for the occasion of my birthday. I grew suspicious and went to check on her."

He paused again and a moment later he laughed. It was hollow and cold and had the slightest edge of panic. Jack watched his friend silently as he laughed for a long moment before he was able to recover himself. Jack shivered, feeling goose bumps race up his arms.

"I watched her poison my dinner. Her back was to me so she did not see me watching her, nor did she ever hear me coming." He sighed again after a minute, as if the act of telling the story was exhausting. "I should have taken the hint and just pretended I had not seen. I should have eaten the soup instead of forcing her to. She screamed and cried and choked and it was not until she had fallen into defeated silence did my senses return to me. I realized what I had done and I ran like a coward." His voice broke with the effort of his emotions.

He turned to Jack suddenly, an almost crazed kind of guilt paling his face. "I killed my own sister, Jack. The one person that had stayed with me my entire life. She did not do it out of spite. I could have forgiven myself if that had been the case. No, she did it because she was scared I would kill her. The only thing I did was prove her right."

He slumped back into the cushions with a defeated _humph_ and fell into silence again. He continued again after a minute without Jack having to say anything. Not that Jack really could at this point. He was having a hard time processing what Tabe was telling him. While Jack had died saving his sister, Tabe had killed his.

"I ran out into the desert, feeling her gaze burning into my back as I went. I took no supplies with me, none of the riches that had brought me such ruin. I took nothing but the clothes on my back. I hardly remember anything of that night. Just my sister and the hatred in her eyes and the sand under my feet as I ran.

"Finally, some unknown time later, I collapsed. I don't know, not even to this day, how long I spent running away. All I know is that when I stopped the sun was high in the sky and it beat down on me my punishment. I remember the darkness creeping in on me and the terrible aching in my soul and the hatred that I felt for myself and my actions.

"I awoke sometime later. You know the rest of the story, don't you?" he said with a sad smile. "The fire danced between my fingers, my favorite scarfed glowed with magic, the wind picked me and let me ride him like an eager dragon finally finding its companion. I was confused at first. But then as I realized what I had been brought back to do, it all became natural to me. I would atone for my actions by keeping the seasons balanced and the world healthy." He shrugged. "I never went back to that spot where I left my sister."

He stood suddenly, almost knocking the hookah over. He walked to the door and stood in the opening indecisively. Jack felt like he should ask questions but could not seem to get over the simple horror of the story. He could not imagine killing anyone, especially not his sister. He did not think he could become that angry to want to kill someone. He sat and contemplated the whole story for a long moment, at a loss for what to say.

Tabe's voice floated over to his from the door after a long time. It was heavy and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't be myself with thoughts of Shirin hanging over my head like this. I need to get out of here. You can stay here the night, there's plenty of soup in the pot. Just don't stay too long after dawn otherwise you might melt." It felt he had tried to insert some of his usual jest into the last sentence but was too tired to do it properly.

He did not say anything more, and with a flutter of cloth, he was gone from the door and into the desert night.

_Afterward: And with that last breed requirement, Tabe is officially a Gary Stu with his very own tragic backstory. I tried to make it as little gary stu-ish as possible with the fact that it's all his fault, but hey. I suppose it's up to you guys to decide. Although the fact that it has been… (I actually have to check the date of the last upload because I don't honestly remember) almost two months since I posted the last chapter, I suppose you guys are either no longer interested or seriously angry with me._

_I had some really bad writer's block at the end of the semester. Part of it was that I had so many papers due that the act of writing anything had become tedious, and the other part was just plain exhaustion. So much so that it took me nearly three weeks to recover. You can also thank Florence and the Machine because their music makes me want to write and before I could write anything else guilt free, I knew I had to write this chapter._

_Also in my defense, I swear I have three different versions of this chapter that are terrible and I hated them so much that I would get half way through them and just give up for a few weeks. This was the first time I was able to get to the end. I still wasn't able to capture the emotions I was looking for. There is also a lot that is left unexplained but I decided that it was better left this way. Tabe is a prolific story teller, but like a bandaid he just wanted to rip it off and not dwell on each individual hair that caused him pain. Thank you for reading, and for the miraculously steady reviews over the last few weeks. You guys have no idea how much you all motivate me. So thank you!_

_Ps: I'm not going to promise any more chapters for a while, but you never know. I may just be back in the game. I need to watch the movie again and we'll see what happens. _


	85. Silence Has Meaning

_Set before the movie._

Jack knew better than to think that the silence was not meaningful. It was; it meant something on a deep, terrible level.

Silence has a meaning. Jack learned that quicker than most people his age should. Silence meant that no one loved him, and possible no one ever would.

So when a kindly couple of yokai approached him one day in the simple hopes of sparking a conversation, to say he was overjoyed was slightly underrated. He was more than overjoyed, he was stunned speechless.

He gaped at them like a beached fish, his eyes so wide they watered. They smiled serenely and laughed gently. It was not condescending, just patient and quiet, like a mother watching her child do something silly.

They wanted to be Jack's friend. It was simple. After a long time, what felt like an hour to Jack, of him starring slack-jawed and them smiling patiently, they told Jack what they wanted.

They were a small group of assorted spirits that were tired of all the big-wigs pushing them around. They realized that seasonals tended to be reclusive to their own kind for reasons that Jack knew but they could not fathom, but they wanted Jack to be one of their little club. No more lonely nights sleeping in a tree, no more screaming into nothing and hearing nothing in return. No more silence that had more meaning than a hundred words could express. It was like they had read his mind, like they knew what he had always wanted.

He should have known better.

It took him nearly a whole year to escape from them. It took him longer to forget the pain- _it's great that seasonals don't scar, isn't it? _Took him longer to forget their words that hurt even more- _no one will come, no one cares, no one even knows you exist._

But he escaped, and he told no one. Tabe came to rebuff him about being gone for so long and not looking after a few storms that strayed and that he had to spend much more energy than usual on the yearly hurricane season, and why was Jack not fighting back? Why was Jack so skittish?

"_It's nothing, Tabe. I'm sorry, I'll be back in shape soon."_

"_You never say sorry. What's wrong with you?"_

"_I said it's nothing," and why can't people just leave me alone I'm trying to be good so that they don't find an excuse to come after me again because who would save me? Who would save me no would save me nooneknowsIexist!_

No one else came to rebuff him. No one even noticed he was gone. The wind mentioned that his absence was boring but there was very little comfort taken in that.

There was a difference now in the silence then there was when he was first born. This silence was lonelier. The old silence had taught him that he was alone. This one told him that he was alone because no one cared enough for him to remember he existed.

He learned to appreciate this silence because at least this silence did not have cruel laughter and the sound of hot water and metal burning into his skin. He could appreciate not being noticed for once in his life. He really could.

He was content with the silence, with being invisible. If no talked to him that meant that no one yelled at him. If no one could see him that meant that no one would hurt him. If no one remembered him that meant that he could sleep fearing only his nightmares and not waking up in hot chains and boiling water that crawled down his throat.

So at night, in the darkest and quietest forests, Jack would curl himself into a ball in the snow, shut his eyes against the world that insisted on reminding him how it hated him, and remembered to not be afraid.

It took him half a century to be unafraid, but that was because by then he was too angry to remember how to be.

_Afterword: Hello again! Jack centered stuff because I feel Tabe was trying to be a main character too much. He even made it into this chapter, the little bugger. In the Torments arc, from forever and some ago, there was heavy mention of a traumatizing event in Jack's life involving a bunch of spirits that presided over a hot spring. I decided to make them yokai because I haven't actually made any Japanese reference in this story and this is the internet so it had to come in sometime. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Ta!_


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